OF  Pitlvf}^ 


2-14-27 


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DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


DAVID  LIVINGSTOJiE^,^ 

Explorer  and  Prophet/^^^^ 


by 


1 4  192/ 


CHARLES  J.  FINGER 


GARDEN  CITY  NEW  YORK 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 
1927 


COPYRIGHT.  1927,  BY  DOUBLEDAY.  PAGE 
&  COMPANY.  ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED. 
PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  AT  THE 
COUNTRY  LIFE  PRESS,  GARDEN  CITY,  N.  Y. 
FIRST  EDITION 


TO 
M.  M. 

AND 

CLAUDE  MEEKER 


I 

I 


PREFACE 


In  this  book,  I  add  nothing  to  the  information 
about  Livingstone,  but  have  tried  to  tell  the  story 
of  his  life,  chiefly  as  he  and  others  recorded  it,  in 
order  that  more  may  have  the  same  delight  in  the 
man  and  his  history  that  I  have  had.  I  have  put 
down  the  simple  facts  as  I  found  them,  knowing  that 
imagined  detail  would  be  both  pale  and  useless. 
I  have  not  tried  to  plunge  deep  and  bring  up  a 
mass  of  interpretive  comment,  because  I  think  that 
the  surface  Livingstone  and  his  deeds  will  show 
to  any  alert  mind  what  he  was  to  the  core  of  him. 
However,  even  in  his  case,  some  speculation  is  in- 
evitable, and  I  have  included  very  briefly  the  simple 
explanations  that  have  for  me  best  rounded  out  the 
story,  but  these  may  be  easily  distinguished  from  the 
story,  and  skipped  by  anyone  who  doesn't  agree  with 
them.  The  narrative  alone  has  profound  truth  in  it, 
and  the  man  whom  it  shows  is,  to  me,  among  the 
heroes. 

I  have  said  that  I  am  a  herald.  The  reply  is  easy 
that  no  truly  great  man,  living  or  dead  a  thousand 
years,  has  ever  needed  a  herald.  Easy,  but  not 
exactly  true.  We  do  not  sing  of  our  heroes  as  the 
gleemen  did  of  old,  and  the  mere  weight  and  binding 

vii 


VIU 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


of  a  book  may  kill  the  knowledge  of  an  adventurous 
and  noble  life. 

Step  into  the  street  and  ask  the  first  ten  men  you 
meet  what  they  know  of  Livingstone.  The  chances 
are  that  you  will  find,  even  in  the  cases  of  good 
churchmen  who  might  be  supposed  to  know,  that 
Livingstone's  reputation  is  ridiculously  less  than  it 
should  be.  You  may  discover  a  hazy  notion  that  he 
was  a  missionary  who  did  a  little  exploring  on  the 
side  and  was  connected  in  some  way  with  another 
explorer  named  Stanley,  and  that  will  be  the  net  re- 
sult of  your  quest.  Or,  if  you  widen  your  field  of 
investigation  and  go  to  librarians,  you  will  find  that 
there  is  no  loud  call  for  the  Journals.  For  my  part, 
I  have  found  the  tale  of  Livingstone's  deeds  to  be 
far  better  known  by  men  who  live  in  out-of-the-way 
places,  where  a  book  is  regarded  as  a  rarity,  than  by 
men  living  where  books  may  be  had  for  the  asking. 
And  by  out-of-the-way  places  I  have  in  mind  such 
unfrequented  spots  as  the  lesser  known  parts  of 
Mexico,  far  northern  Canada,  the  Andes  country, 
and  that  part  of  Africa  near  Cape  Verde.  For  in 
such  odd  corners  of  the  world  there  are  men  who, 
because  of  the  benefit  of  experience,  understand  the 
grandeur  of  what  Livingstone  did,  and  who  cannot 
regard  the  man  as  a  mild  and  rather  uninteresting 
fellow  doing  nothing  more  than  preaching  and  "going 
about  with  a  Bible  under  his  arm,"  as  Livingstone 
himself,  objecting  to  be  taken  for  that  kind  of  an 
individual,  derisively  expressed  it. 

Your  man  of  restricted  life  and  experience  is  apt  to 


DAVID    LIVINGSTONE  13^ 

pass  the  tale  of  a  missionary  as  being  dull  and 
unpromising,  and  so,  when  on  adventure  bent,  will 
often  turn  to  the  tales  of  Jesse  James,  or  of  Ned  Kelly, 
or  of  Rob  Roy,  or  of  Billy  the  Kid,  perhaps  unaware 
that  by  so  doing  he  is  getting  into  the  domain  of 
fiction  and  entirely  missing  the  far  more  exciting 
magic  of  the  past  as  it  was.  But  the  magic  of  romantic 
fact  is  known  by  hearsay  and  much  valued  by  those 
on  border  lands  and  frontiers;  it  is  passed  down  from 
mouth  to  mouth  Uke  the  old  hero  tales  of  every  race. 
In  South  America  while  riding,  or  while  smoking  by 
the  camp  fire,  or  under  the  stars  while  we  lay  in  our 
capas,  we  used  sometimes  to  talk  of  those  sterling 
Jesuits  of  whom  Cunninghame  Graham  wrote  in  his 
Vanished  Arcadia.  And  we  talked  of  them,  not  be- 
cause of  idle  interest,  but  because  their  work  had 
left  its  indelible  mark  on  that  part  of  men  that  is 
sensitive  to  heroism.  There  was  one  tale  of  a  mission- 
ary, a  popular  one,  which  I  knew  to  be  true,  because 
I  was  one  of  the  seamen  in  the  schooner  in  which  the 
man  of  derring-do  went  to  the  place  of  his  work, 
which  was  Dawson  Island.  He  was  a  young  priest 
burning  with  ambition  to  tame  and  teach  the  natives. 
When  we  landed  him,  he  bade  us  farewell,  then  went 
up  the  beach,  alone  and  unarmed.  Suddenly,  out  of 
the  scrub,  a  native  rushed  at  him  with  uplifted  club. 
But  the  priest  stood  where  he  was,  his  hands  thrown 
apart  to  show  that  he  had  no  weapon,  and  somehow 
things  went  without  bloodshed.  Two  years  later, 
because  of  the  man's  efforts,  there  was  a  measure  of 
order  in  that  place,  and  an  affection  had  grown  be- 


X 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


tween  priest  and  Indian,  much  as  it  grew,  as  we  shall 
see,  between  Livingstone  and  his  Zulus  and  Bushmen. 
Then  there  was  the  oft-told  tale  of  Allen  Gardener, 
the  first  missionary  who  ventured  among  that  con- 
fusion of  islands  near  Cape  Horn.  Also,  there  was 
the  story  of  Thomas  Bridges,  my  friend,  who  lived 
near  Ooshaia.  We  who  sailed  and  dug  for  gold  down 
there  knew  how  he  tramped  the  country  alone,  how 
he  canoed  in  ice-burdened  seas  for  the  cause  he  had 
at  heart.  We  knew,  also,  that  in  his  place  were 
warmth  and  welcome,  a  book  and  a  meal  for  us,  to 
say  nothing  of  medical  relief  when  we  suffered  from 
toothache  or  a  dozen  other  little  ills.  I  have  said 
enough  to  indicate  that  we,  who  were  far  from  being 
inclined  to  orthodoxy,  looked  with  real  respect  and 
admiration  upon  some  of  the  missionaries,  though 
not  all  of  them,  as  upstanding  men  who  spent  their 
lives  in  strenuous  defense  of  their  faith;  men  who  were 
simple  in  their  ways;  men  who  were  honest  and 
decent  and  laborious.  It  was  a  mark  of  esteem  when 
they  were  sometimes  spoken  of  as  "hard  cases"  and 
thoroughbreds. 

As  to  dull-appearing  books,  the  neglect  of  an 
interesting  character,  and  the  glory  of  discovering 
him,  let  me  tell  briefly  the  tale  of  my  own  discovery, 
and  if  the  telling  of  it  and  the  writing  of  this  book 
will  send  readers  to  Livingstone's  Journals,  I  shall 
count  myself  fortunate. 

In  the  library  of  our  mountain  home  there  is  a  fire- 
place that  holds  a  three-foot  log,  and  on  winter  eve- 
nings it  is  mighty  pleasant  to  sit  about  the  blaze 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


playing  games,  or  listening  to  music,  or  comparing 
notes  about  the  events  of  the  day  in  school  and  field, 
or  more  often  listening  while  one  of  the  circle  reads 
aloud.  One  night  of  rain  and  darkness,  after  a 
circus  had  been  to  the  neighboring  town,  our  talk, 
because  of  some  piece  of  spectacular  business  done 
in  the  show  tent,  chanced  to  fall  on  lions.  I  hap- 
pened to  remember  a  passage  in  a  book  that  had 
interested  me  tremendously  as  a  boy,  and  that  I  had 
heard  discussed  time  and  time  again  over  camp  fires. 
So  I  took  from  the  shelves  Livingstone's  Missionary 
Travels,  and  read  aloud  the  story  of  that  wild  day's 
work  when  the  African  explorer,  coming  so  near  to 
death,  was  injured  for  life.  Now  that  adventure  left 
him  in  such  shape  that  thereafter  he  could  not  hold 
a  rifle  steady  with  his  left  arm,  and  had  to  have  a 
specially  devised  telescope  stand  that,  screwed  into 
a  tree,  enabled  him  to  get  a  steady  sight.  Yet,  in 
telling  the  story,  he  makes  far  less  fuss  than  many  a 
man  does  when  he  tells  of  a  visit  to  a  dentist.  And, 
let  me  say,  all  faces  were  shining  with  interest  while  I 
read.  At  the  end,  because  the  love  of  adventure  had 
prompted  the  greater  part  of  our  reading,  there  were 
questions  and  queries  as  to  why  so  fine  and  vivid  a 
piece  of  writing  had  been  overlooked  until  then.  For 
there  was  clarity,  veracity,  and  a  subtly  persuasive 
humor,  too,  in  what  we  had  read.  It  was  a  story 
stripped  stark.  There  was  the  word  picture  of  a  man 
in  most  terrible  danger,  flat  on  the  ground  with  a 
lion  standing  over  him,  caught  by  the  shoulder  and 
being  "shaken  as  a  terrier  dog  shakes  a  rat."    In  it 


Xll 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


all  there  were  no  sham  heroics;  nothing  was  unreal. 
"The  shock,"  he  writes,  "caused  a  sort  of  dreaminess 
in  which  there  was  no  pain  ...  no  feeling  of 
terror.  ...  It  was  like  what  patients  partially 
under  the  influence  of  chloroform  describe.  .  .  . 
The  shake  annihilated  fear  and  allowed  no  sense  of 
horror  in  looking  round  at  the  beast."  There  you  have 
the  evidence  of  a  truthful  man.  Reading  the  passage, 
those  who  have  known  nearness  to  death  by  accident 
are  prepared  to  accept  whatever  Livingstone  may 
have  to  say  in  the  future.  I  certainly  was,  for, 
among  some  close  calls,  I  remembered  being  washed 
ashore  after  a  shipwreck,  when,  in  the  midst  of  a 
turmoil  of  waves  and  thunder  and  lightning,  there 
came  a  swift  memory  of  an  illustration  I  had  seen 
long  before,  of  the  fight  between  Guy  of  Gisborne 
and  Robin  Hood;  but  certainly  neither  pain  nor 
feeling  of  terror. 

Now  there  is  not  one  of  my  family  who  is  not  a 
reader,  and  the  books  are  on  open  shelves  for  anyone 
to  see  and  to  choose  from,  but  because  of  the  un- 
promising title  and  the  unattractive  look  of  Living- 
stone's first  book  (it  has  some  eight  hundred  pages 
and  is  bound  like  a  law  volume),  they  had  passed 
and  repassed  it  when  after  absorbing  narrative. 
However,  after  hearing  the  lion  adventure,  all  in  the 
room  changed  their  manner  of  thinking.  They  did 
not  want  to  stop  with  the  Hon  incident,  and  neither 
did  L 

Not  to  make  too  long  a  story  of  it,  because  of 
Livingstone's  interest  we  went  through  the  book. 


DAVID    LIVINGSTONE  XUl 

overstaying  the  usual  bed  hour,  night  after  night,  to 
do  so.  Then,  because  it  was  all  so  vivid,  because 
Livingstone  so  obviously  set  down  things  as  they 
were,  and  because  it  was  evident  that  there  were 
other  wonders  to  be  revealed,  we  followed  Missionary 
Travels  with  Expedition  to  the  Zambesi,  and  that 
ended,  we  plunged  into  the  Last  Journals,  not  by  any 
means  because  we  felt  we  ought  as  a  duty  to  round 
out  the  whole,  but  as  a  matter  of  sheer  enthusiasm. 
And  when  we  had  done,  there  we  were  in  the  ordi- 
nary things  of  everyday  life,  when  things  trivial  and 
annoying  were  to  the  fore,  somehow  helped  by  a 
remembrance  of  Livingstone.  Living,  as  it  were, 
with  the  man  so  intimately — for  the  reading  of  the 
three  books  took  some  eight  weeks — we  had  come  to 
look  upon  him  and  to  know  him  as  a  lovable  and 
sweet-tempered  friend.  But  we  found  imore  than  a 
friend;  we  found  one  of  those  rare  figures,  thoroughly 
men,  yet  touched  with  a  sort  of  divinity,  the  memory 
of  whom  is  a  hidden  grail,  giving  food  and  drink  to 
the  spirit. 

Charles  J.  Finger. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTIK  PAGE 

I.    The  Scottish  Boy   i 

II.    His  African  Apprenticeship   17 

III.  Settlement  at  Mabotsa   37 

IV.  Through  the  Desert  to  the  Zambesi  ...  57 
V.    Linyanti   79 

VI.    The  March  to  the  Atlantic   108 

VII.    Victoria  Falls  and  Home   139 

VIII.    Fighting  the  Slave  Trade   168 

IX.    Sorrow  and  Apparent  Defeat   191 

X.    Drawing  the  Map  of  Africa   213 

XI.    Livingstone  and  Stanley   234 

XII.    The  Last  March   258 

Appendix 

I.    A  Short  Outline  of  David  Livingstone's  Life  279 

II.    A  Short  List  of  Books   281 

TIL  Report  of  Livingstone's  Death,  Based  on 
Musa's  Story,  made  to  Lord  Clarendon, 
Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  by  Dr.  G.  E. 

Seward,  Consul  at  Zanzibar     ....  282 
IV.    Report  to  Sir  Roderick  Murchison,  President 
of  the  Royal  Geographical  Society,  Made 
by  Lieutenant  E.  D.  Young,  Commander 

of  the  First  Livingstone  Search  Expedition  286 

Index   295 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


HAT  Livingstone  gives  us  of  his  early  life  is 


▼  f  contained  in  the  eight  pages  of  introduction  to 
Missionary  Travels,  and  those  data,  I  should  not  be 
astonished  to  learn,  are  an  afterthought,  written 
because  his  publishers  insisted  upon  some  personal 
detail  when  they  discovered  that  he  had  said  nothing 
at  all  about  himself.  Being  a  generous  soul  and  big 
enough  to  take  advice,  he  did  what  he  could,  but  put 
the  information  in  as  inconspicuous  a  form  and  as 
small  a  compass  as  was  decently  possible,  and  then, 
with  a  sigh  of  relief,  pushed  the  whole  thing  out  of 
sight  and  mind,  to  go  on  with  that  which  he  took 
to  be  far  more  important  than  himself — his  life's 
work.  "My  own  inclination  would  lead  me  to  say 
as  little  as  possible  about  myself"  are  his  opening 
words,  then  he  falls  to  talking  about  his  great- 
grandfather. 

Scattered  through  several  pages  of  honorable  and 
chivalrous  descriptions  of  his  early  surroundings  and 
friends — of  his  mother,  of  his  schoolmaster,  of  an  old 
quarryman  and  others — we  find  the  structural  facts 


CHAPTER  I 


THE  SCOTTISH  BOY 


2 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


of  his  early  life.  He  was  born  March  19,  1813,  at 
Blantyre  Works,  in  Lanarkshire,  near  Glasgow,  Scot- 
land, the  second  child  of  Neil  Livingston  and  Agnes 
Hunter.  That  was  the  spelling  of  his  father's  name, 
and  of  his  own  until  later  in  his  life.  Beginning  at 
the  age  of  ten,  he  worked  for  thirteen  years  in  a 
cotton  mill — nine  years  as  a  piecer  and  four  as  a 
spinner.  Then,  for  two  sessions,  he  studied  medicine 
and  Greek  at  Anderson's  College,  Glasgow,  and  also 
attended  a  theological  class.  In  1838  he  was  accepted 
by  the  London  Missionary  Society.  He  continued  his 
studies,  and  in  1840  received  a  medical  degree  from 
the  Faculty  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons,  Glasgow. 
He  sailed  for  Africa,  as  a  missionary,  on  December  8, 
1840. 

These  facts  are  bare  enough  and  can  be  found  any- 
where, but  to  anyone  who  knows  a  bit  about  boy- 
hood and  a  bit  about  Nineteenth  Century  Scotland 
and  reflects  a  moment,  they  will  be  rich  with  meaning. 
Also,  we  learn  something  from  Livingstone's  brief 
account.  We  get  a  hint  that  he  always  liked  to 
wander  about  the  country  when  he  was  a  lad,  finding 
his  walks  good,  wholesome,  invigorating,  without 
knowing  it.  A  walk  of  ten  miles  in  a  day  was  nothing 
much  for  a  Scotch  laddie  in  those  days.  But  he  gives 
less  space  to  the  tale  of  his  boyhood  days  than  he  does 
to  a  word  picture  of  an  old  Peninsular  soldier  who 
interested  him.  He  gives  a  hint  of  pride  in  his  great- 
grandfather, who  fell  at  the  battle  of  CuUoden,  fight- 
ing for  the  old  line  of  kings;  he  tells  pleasantly  of  his 
grandfather,  who  had  a  mind  stuffed  full  of  old  tales, 


THE    SCOTTISH  BOY 


3 


"many  of  which  were  wonderfully  like  those  .  .  . 
heard  while  sitting  by  the  African  evening  fires";  he 
tells  of  the  old  Gaelic  songs  which  his  grandmother 
sang.  He  quotes  an  ancestor,  some  stout  old  islander, 
whose  last  words  were  held  dear  as  signifying  the 
moral  strength  of  the  Livingstone  stock,  thus:  "Now, 
in  my  Hfetime,  I  have  searched  most  carefully 
through  all  the  traditions  I  could  find  of  our  family, 
and  I  never  could  discover  that  there  was  a  dishonest 
man  among  our  forefathers.  If,  therefore,  any  of  you 
or  any  of  your  children  should  take  to  dishonest 
ways,  it  will  not  be  because  it  runs  in  our  blood; 
it  does  not  belong  to  you.  I  leave  this  precept  with 
you:  *Be  Honest,'"  Quoting  that,  Livingstone 
adds  a  hope  that  should  he,  in  the  account  of  his 
travels,  fall  into  errors,  they  must  be  taken  as  honest 
mistakes,  and  "not  as  indicating  that  I  have  for- 
gotten our  ancient  motto."  Of  his  father  he  gives  a 
hint  of  a  man  "too  conscientious  to  become  rich  as  a 
small  tea-dealer,"  who,  by  kindliness  of  manner  and 
winning  ways,  "made  the  heartstrings  of  his  children 
twine  around  him."  The  picture  of  his  mother  is 
that  of  "the  anxious  housewife  striving  to  make  both 
ends  meet." 

There,  sketched  in  the  rough,  are  Livingstone's 
background  and  surroundings  as  given  by  himself. 
But  consider  the  second  item  of  the  brief  summary — 
the  going  to  work.  It  will  stand  more  than  the 
bare  mention  that  Livingstone  accords  it. 

In  his  middle  age,  Livingstone  records  with  quiet 
complacency  an  event  that  most  men  would  regard 


4 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


as  an  intolerable  calamity.  "At  the  age  of  ten  I 
was  put  into  a  factory  as  a  piecer,"  he  says,  and  adds 
that  it  w^as  because  the  family  had  much  ado  in  mak- 
ing both  ends  meet.  At  the  age  of  ten,  let  it  be  noted, 
an  age  v^^hen  most  children  rightly  think  of  play- 
grounds as  their  just  due,  young  David  was  shoulder- 
ing the  burden  that  he  never  afterward  dropped. 
At  a  time  of  life  when  most  of  us  look  upon  shelter 
and  food  and  warmth  as  things  to  which  we  are  by 
natural  right  entitled,  there  was  the  lad  at  work  from 
six  in  the  morning  until  eight  at  night,  long  after  the 
lamplighters  had  made  their  rounds,  carrying  things 
at  a  fast  trot  from  floor  to  floor  all  day.  He  was 
up  by  candlelight  at  five,  in  the  gray  chill  of  a  Scotch 
morning.  After  porridge  there  was  a  running  over 
cobblestones  in  the  face  of  a  scowthering  wind  to  be 
at  the  factory  on  time.  His  only  music  was  the  dull 
murmur  of  machinery.  His  workaday  world  was 
limited  by  the  four  brick  walls  of  an  ill-lighted,  poorly 
ventilated,  indiff"erently  warmed  factory.  His  com- 
panions were  simple  and  narrow  beings  unconcerned 
with  visions.  Yet,  with  it  all,  you  find  no  touch  of 
regret,  no  air  of  complaint  either  in  boy  or  in  man. 
Once,  in  a  reminiscent  mood,  when  he  was  well  on  in 
years,  he  wrote  about  that  period  of  his  life,  saying: 
"it  formed  a  material  part  of  my  education,  and  were 
I  to  begin  fife  over  again,  I  should  like  to  pass  through 
the  same  hardy  training."  No  whining  about  op- 
portunities lacking,  you  will  notice,  but,  instead,  a 
sort  of  glow  because  of  the  memory  of  pleasant 
activity.    Indeed,  perhaps,  in  looking  back,  there 


THE    SCOTTISH  BOY 


5 


was  in  him  an  unexpressed  joy  because  he  recognized 
his  own  qualities  of  daring  and  perseverance.  For, 
hard  though  the  road  had  been  when  he  set  out  to 
travel  the  highway  of  hfe,  yet  there  were  flowers  by 
the  wayside — marketable  berries,  too. 

To  explain:  Somehow  there  was,  in  the  boy,  the 
idea  that  he  was  born  to  grow.  Somehow  he  had 
grasped  the  fact  that  time  misspent  was  lost  forever. 
Somehow  he  had  a  purpose,  a  goal,  a  direction.  So 
he  saw  opportunity  where  many  of  us  would  have 
found  blank  discouragement. 

Those  were  days  when  a  factory  was  a  manufactory, 
when  endless  carriers,  and  elevators,  and  labor- 
saving  contrivances  had  not  been  dreamed  of,  conse- 
quently, much  of  the  lad's  work  was  running  back 
and  forth,  and  up  and  down,  from  one  part  of  the 
building  to  another,  his  arms  piled  with  material. 
He  had  come  to  grips  with  life,  and  henceforth  the 
blue  sky  and  the  heather  and  the  river  had  to  be 
memories  only.  But  there  was  this:  His  path  to  and 
fro  took  him  past  a  spinning  jenny  at  which  sat  a 
friendly  man,  and  the  piece  of  machinery  had  a  flat 
place,  a  sort  of  little  shelf  on  which  a  book  might  be 
set.  That  was  item  number  one.  Item  number 
two,  as  the  boy  saw  it,  was  that  while  the  factory 
>/  owners  had  bought  his  body  for  fourteen  hours  a  day 
and  he  was  minded  to  do  his  full  stint  in  return,  yet 
there  were  empty  hours  for  the  mind,  and  those 
empty  hours  had  to  be  filled,  for  the  mind  was  fresh 
and  quick  and  hungry.  So,  with  part  of  his  first 
week's  wages,  he  bought  a  second-hand  copy  of 


6 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


Ruddiman's  Rudiments  of  Latin,  for  he  had  figured 
out  a  way  to  turn  the  track  that  he  trod  all  day  into 
a  path  of  knowledge.  It  could  be  done,  he  saw,  in 
justice  to  his  employer;  for  there  was  that  family  ^ 
motto  to  be  kept  in  mind.  Then,  the  cotton-spinner 
at  the  machine  making  no  objection,  David  set  the  ^ 
open  book  on  a  ledge  of  a  machine  that  he  passed 
and  repassed  all  day,  and,  lo  and  behold!  he  had 
entered  the  doors  of  his  university.  For  he  read  as  he 
ran.  'One  trip  meant  one  sentence  seized;  another 
trip  the  sentence  following,  and  between  times  and 
away  from  his  book  were  the  moments  of  reflection 
and  digestion,  "To  this  part  of  my  education,"  he 
wrote,  long  afterward,  "I  owe  my  present  power  of  ^ 
completely  abstracting  the  mind  from  surrounding 
noises,  so  as  to  be  able  to  read  and  write  with  perfect 
comfort  amid  the  play  of  children  or  near  the  dancing 
and  songs  of  savages."  It  reads  strangely  enough  in 
these  days  of  advanced  and  generous  sympathies. 

He  read  enormously,  almost  everything  but  fiction, 
for  in  those  days,  among  sober-minded  people  the 
reading  of  fiction  was  looked  upon  and  roundly  con- 
demned, both  in  kirk  and  home,  as  an  idle  habit  and  a 
wasting  of  good  time.  Probably  he  needed  no  fiction 
to  stimulate  his  imagination  or  amuse  him.  There 
was  geography.  The  study  of  that  has  always  fed 
imagination,  and  in  those  days  there  were  vast 
blank  spaces  marked  "Unexplored"  running  across 
Asia,  and  AustraUa,  and  South  America,  and  Africa. 
Over  those  he  pondered,  wondering,  speculating, 
and,  Hke  Barthema,  always  full  of  a  desire  to  "see 


I 


THE    SCOTTISH  BOY 


7 


how  places  are."  Geography  led  to  history,  to 
geology,  to  theoretical  navigation.  There  were 
incursions  into  medicine,  mathematics,  ornithology, 
theology.  He  read  Virgil  and  came  to  love  his 
inimitable  music.  He  came  to  know  and  to  appreci- 
ate that  Horace  who  never  frets  nor  fumes,  who  in- 
spires to  sane  and  truthful  living,  who  drills  away 
good-humoredly  at  the  fact  that  happiness  is  not 
from  without,  but  from  within.  From  occasional 
remarks  in  the  Journals  we  know  that  he  read  Pepys, 
and  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  and  Burton  of  the  Anatomy 
of  Melancholy.  And  always  what  he  read  he  stored 
away,  memorized,  held  to  so  fast  that  almost  it  seems 
as  if  he  foresaw  his  Hfe  of  isolation,  when  memory 
must  serve  for  hbrary  and  companionship. 

Thus,  at  the  age  of  ten,  the  boy  started  on  a  Hfe  of 
amazing  activity.  At  ten  he  was  a  thoroughbred, 
keen  to  the  call  of  a  self-imposed  duty.  At  ten  he 
had  a  sense  of  responsibihty,  was  self-reliant,  inde- 
pendent. For  it  takes  some  doing  for  a  lad  to  be 
unafraid  of  being  dubbed  bookish.  We  imagine  him, 
somewhat  slim  but  wiry,  eyes  bright  and  shining, 
walking  with  a  springing  step,  forcefulness  and  firm- 
ness in  every  inch  of  him,  always  hastening — from 
home  to  factory,  from  factory  to  home.  At  home, 
there  were  little  household  duties  which  he  was  will- 
ing to  do  if  no  publicity  attended  them.  "Mother, 
if  ye'U  close  fast  the  door,  I'll  scrub  the  floor,"  he  told 
her,  for  he  balked  a  little  at  the  idea  of  doing  woman's 
work,  and,  later,  recalled  his  pleasant  vanity  and 
atoned  for  it  much  as  did  Dr.  Johnson  in  that  Litch- 


8 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


field  affair.  But  he  had  Httle  time  for  housework, 
for  there  was  a  night  school  where  classes  were  held 
between  nine  and  ten  every  evening,  and  David  was 
a  scholar.  Nor  were  his  manifold  engagements  at  an 
end  at  ten.  Books  were  to  be  read,  lessons  to  be 
prepared,  new  fields  of  knowledge  had  to  be  touched. 
So,  by  the  hght  of  a  tallow  candle  he  read  until,  very 
often,  his  mother  came  down  and  carried  away  the 
candlestick. 

After  nine  years  of  heavy  work,  David  Livingstone 
was  promoted  to  the  position  of  cotton-spinner,  and 
of  the  new  work  he  has  this  to  say:  "While  the  toil 
.  .  .  was  excessively  severe  on  a  slim,  loose- 
jointed  lad  ...  it  was  well  paid  for;  and  it 
enabled  me  to  support  myself  while  attending  medi- 
cal and  Greek  classes  in  Glasgow,  in  the  winter, 
as  also  the  divinity  lectures  of  Dr.  Wardlow,  by 
working  with  my  hands  in  summer.  I  never  received 
a  farthing  of  aid  from  anyone,  and  should  have  ac- 
complished my  project  of  going  to  China  as  a  medi- 
cal missionary,  in  the  course  of  time,  by  my  own 
efforts,  had  not  some  friends  advised  my  joining 
the  London  Missionary  Society  on  account  of  its 
unsectarian  character." 

During  those  years  in  the  factory,  he  had  become 
firmly  convinced  that  missionary  activity  was  to  be 
his  chief  concern  in  life.  But  he  wanted  to  be  a 
new  kind  of  missionary,  one  doing  his  chosen  work 
without  asking  favors  or  taking  orders  from  any  man 
or  from  any  organization.  He  wanted  to  be  himself 
complete,  from  top  to  toe.  He  wanted  to  go  to  China, 


THE    SCOTTISH  BOY 


9 


not  only  educating  himself,  but  paying  his  own 
passage  to  his  chosen  field,  outfitting  his  own  camp, 
and,  at  last  in  the  place  where  he  yearned  to  be, 
building  his  own  mission  station.  But  China  was 
then  aflame  with  the  beginnings  of  the  trouble  that 
grew  into  the  Opium  War,  so  by  no  effort  of  the 
imagination  could  he  see  himself  doing  effective  work 
there  for  many  years  to  come,  even  if  he  could  get  into 
the  country,  which  was  doubtful.  Still,  he  felt  that 
life  was  slipping  away  with  unutterable  rapidity  and 
that,  if  he  was  to  do  something,  he  had  to  do  it  soon. 

Quite  surprisingly,  the  way  that  he  sought  seemed 
to  open  through  the  London  Missionary  Society. 
To  be  sure,  as  a  worker  in  that  body,  he  would  have 
to  surrender  some  of  that  stiff-necked  independence 
on  which  he  prided  himself,  but,  as  an  offset  to  that, 
there  were  definite  advantages.  That  organization 
placed  no  insistence  upon  trivial  distinctions  of  sect, 
and,  he  hoped,  might  be  induced  to  leave  him  with 
some  measure  of  freedom,  perhaps  almost  as  free  as 
he  yearned  to  be.  In  the  end,  refusing  to  allow 
independence  to  be  merged  in  obstinacy,  Livingstone 
put  aside  a  little  of  his  distaste  for  asking  favors,  and 
made  application  for  employment  by  the  London 
Society.  He  was  accepted  provisionally,  so  set  off 
for  London,  and  arrived  there  September  i,  1838,  his 
age  being  then  twenty-five. 

Now,  in  those  days,  in  London,  what  with  the 
opening  of  the  new  railroad  to  Birmingham  and 
people  objecting  to  it  on  the  ground  that  it  would 
tend  to  lead  country  lads  to  the  city  and  demoralize 


10 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


them;  what  with  the  Chartists  showing  the  way  to  a 
new  Utopia  and  being  denounced  as  enemies  to 
society;  what  with  Paganini  charming  the  world  with 
his  music  and  being  suspected  of  strange  and  un- 
earthly powers;  what  with  Charles  Kean  electrifying 
his  audiences  with  his  Shakespearean  portrayals  and 
others  denouncing  the  stage  as  a  potent  evil;  what 
with  the  frivolities  of  Cremorne  and  Vauxhall  gardens; 
take  it  all  in  all,  there  were  plenty  of  excitements. 
But  none  of  these  were  for  David  Livingstone.  He 
met  another  young  enthusiast,  Joseph  Moore,  who 
afterward  won  a  name  for  himself  in  Tahiti,  and  the 
two  of  them  made  a  little  pilgrimage  to  St.  Paul's 
Cathedral.  They  also  went  to  Westminster  Abbey, 
where,  thirty-six  years  later,  Livingstone's  body  was 
laid  in  the  central  nave,  England  standing  in  rever- 
ence the  while,  as  for  some  high  minister  of  state,  or, 
indeed,  as  for  her  ruler,  for  David  Livingstone  was 
buried  with  England's  kings. 
— '  One  may  very  well  pause  and  wonder  about  this 
young  David  Livingstone,  come  up  to  London  as  so 
many  young  men,  watched  by  Fate,  had  done  before 
him.  The  reHgious  zeal  of  the  young  Scot  is  easy 
enough  to  explain,  it  is  also  easy  to  see  why  long 
hours  in  a  factory  and  the  reading  of  geography  had 
given  him  a  yearning  to  look  beyond  far  mountains; 
strong  independence  of  a  young  man  of  such  a  boy- 
hood is  not  surprising.  That's  one  explanation. 
Another,  equally  plausible,  is  that  David  Livingstone 
had  it  in  the  brain  and  blood  and  bone  of  him  to  be 
among  the  great  explorers,  and  that  almost  nothing 


THE    SCOTTISH  BOY 


II 


could  have  kept  him  from  his  inherited  destiny. 
Probably  both  ideas  have  truth  in  them.  Then  there 
are  certain  conversations  between  the  young  man 
and  a  man  who  had  done  things,  who  had  seen 
beyond  the  mountains,  and  who  was  still  eager  for 
the  trail.  All  great  urges  are  a  tangle,  and  who 
shall  dare  theorize  on  what  has  started  them  and 
what  is  in  them?  Yet  I  would  hazard  a  guess  that  in 
Livingstone,  deeper  and  stronger  than  the  desire  to 
spread  the  word  of  his  God,  deeper  and  stronger  even 
than  his  desire  to  heal  and  help  the  suffering  children 
of  the  jungle,  was,  from  beginning  to  end,  the  great 

passion  to  look  into  the  heart  of  darkness.   , 

And  now,  the  conversations  I  have  mentioned. 
One  day  there  had  come  to  the  house  in  London 
where  Livingstone  was  staying,  a  certain  Dr.  Robert 
Moffat,  an  old  lion  of  an  African  missionary  who  had 
his  station  some  seven  hundred  miles  up  country  at 
a  place  called  Kuruman.  Now,  Livingstone  was 
itching  to  talk  with  the  Doctor  because  of  a  certain 
reputation  for  deeds  of  derring-do  that  clung  to  the 
man.  He  had  gone  farther  afield  than  anyone  else 
in  the  African  mission  campaign.  He  lived  on  the 
edge  of  unexplored  lands.  He  had  tackled  the  wild 
Hottentot  outlaw  and  robber  named  Afrikaner,  and 
somehow  led  him  into  civil  ways.  It  was  the  same 
Moffat  who  had  translated  the  Bible  into  the  Bechu- 
ana  tongue  and  then  set  to  work  to  teach  natives  to 
read;  preparing  goods,  as  it  were,  then  creating  a 
market  and  demand  for  them.  It  was  the  Moffat  who 
walked  about  in  new  and  strange  lands  as  though  the 


.12  DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 

earth  had  been  made  for  him  and  he  had  a  clear  title 
to  go  whithersoever  he  chose.  All  that  delighted 
Livingstone,  so  the  young  enthusiast  sought  out  the 
man,  told  him  about  his  hopes,  asked  him  for  a  word 
or  two  of  advice,  then  pricked  his  ears  while  the 
formidable  old  lion  talked  straight  from  the  shoulder. 
He  told  Livingstone  many  things,  but  not  from  a 
standpoint  of  tradition  or  authority.  He  said  that 
a  missionary  might  be  a  soft-handed  loafer  and  a 
parasite  on  society,  or  he  might  be  something  well 
worth  a  man's  while.  It  depended  upon  the  man  and 
not  on  the  coat  or  the  office.  There  were  too  many, 
he  insisted,  who  considered  all  done  when  they  had 
tagged  themselves  as  missionaries.  If  Livingstone 
really  meant  serious  business,  if  he  indulged  in  no 
erroneous  and  fanciful  notions,  if  he  had  vision  and 
vitality,  then  tremendous  things  were  possible.  "  Do 
not  sit  down  in  lazy  contentment,"  he  told  him. 
"Do  not  choose  an  old  station.  Push  on.  Push  on 
to  the  vast  unoccupied  and  unknown  district  to  the 
north.  In  that  direction,  on  a  clear  morning,  I 
have  seen  the  smoke  of  a  thousand  villages.  There, 
no  missionary  has  ever  been.  There,  sir,  is  your 
field." 

There  were  other  conversations,  which  Livingstone 
found  astonishingly  good,  talks  about  Africa's  brief 
history,  and  about  the  deeds  both  glorious  and 
shameful  that  had  been  done.  There  were  tales  of 
ventures  that  had  failed  and  men  who  had  died, 
but  these  did  not  affect  young  Livingstone's  un- 
quenchable hopefulness.    They  talked  of  the  saiHng 


THE    SCOTTISH  BOY 


13 


of  Captain  Stubbs  up  the  Gambia  in  1723;  of  the 
commencement  of  Bruce's  travels  in  1768;  of  Mungo 
Park's  first  attempt  in  1795,  and  his  second,  from 
which  he  did  not  return,  in  1804.  There  had  been 
other  attempts,  not  very  fruitful  of  knowledge,  as 
when  Salt,  and  Burckhardt,  and  Campbell,  and 
Hornemann  went  on  expeditions,  touching  the  fringe 
of  things,  between  1805  and  1816;  but  none  of  them 
had  gone  into  the  blank  places  shown  on  the  map. 
Indeed,  the  only  thorough  piece  of  work  had  been 
that  of  the  Niger  expedition.  In  that,  a  reliable 
survey  had  been  made  of  the  river  Niger  by  Mr. 
Macgregor  Laird  of  Liverpool,  accompanied  by  his 
friend  Lauder  and  Lieutenant  William  Allen — but 
they  had  not  touched  the  vast  tract,  to  pierce  which 
became  a  passion  in  Livingstone's  heart.  As  for 
Zululand,  through  which  Livingstone  would  have  to 
pass,  that  was  a  place  of  disorder  and  bloodshed. 
Tradition  said  it  had  been  peopled  by  a  peaceful 
pastoral  folk.  But  a  chief  named  Godongwana  had 
arisen,  "The  Wanderer,"  men  called  him.  He  had 
formed  a  celibate  army,  but  had  been  killed  by  his 
ally,  Chaka.  Chaka  in  turn  had  been  assassinated  by 
his  brother,  the  treacherous  Dingaan,  and  thence- 
forth the  land  had  become  a  war-swept  one,  Zulu 
fighting  Boer,  English  fighting  Zulu,  until  both 
Boer  and  British  suffered  reverses. 
Whatever  had  been  there  before,  that  talk  with 
V  Moffat  lighted  a  flame  in  the  young  Scot's  heart. 
A  new  vision  grew,  which  some  called  a  fanatic's 
dream,  and  the  young  man  was  all  a-tingle  to  push 


14  DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 

on.  His  life's  story  is  how  he  did  that — steadily, 
continuously,  persistently,  always  with  glorious 
courage. 

After  a  preliminary  examination,  Livingstone  and 
Moore  were  sent  to  the  little  town  of  Chipping  Ongar, 
northeast  of  London  and  near  Epping  Forest,  where, 
under  a  tutor,  there  were  to  be  three  months  of 
intensive  study,  of  discussion,  of  looking  into  the  real 
content  of  religion,  of  making  certain  that  the  young 
men  were  ardent  enthusiasts  and  not  spineless 
creatures  with  passing  emotions  who  would  shift 
from  track  to  track,  and,  with  the  first  hardship, 
fall  exhausted  and  despairing. 

All  went  very  well,  with  Livingstone  full  of  exul- 
tation, making  a  briUiant  record,  marching  like  a 
conqueror,  until  the  pathetic  little  alfFair  at  Stanmore, 
when  in  his  overwrought  mind  there  chanced  to 
come,  for  an  instant,  a  blank.  Livingstone  gives  no 
account  of  it,  probably  dismissing  it  as  a  negligible 
incident,  but  Joseph  Moore  told  the  tale  in  all  kindli- 
ness, rejoicing  that  his  friend  overrode  the  difficulty. 
At  the  village  of  Stanmore,  which  is  close  to  Chipping 
Ongar,  the  vicar  fell  ill  and  so  sent  to  Livingstone's 
tutor  asking  for  a  substitute  minister  for  a  day. 
Livingstone  was  sent. 

Now  part  of  the  tutor's  training  was  to  the  end 
that  there  might  be  a  proper  preaching  of  sermons 
without  notes,  the  sermons  having  been  written  and 
committed  to  memory  after  the  tutor's  correction  and 
approval.  In  those  days,  in  all  educational  circles, 
immense  stress  was  laid  upon  the  importance  of 


THE    SCOTTISH  BOY 


15 


training  the  memory.  Ministers  memorized  sermons; 
schoolboys  committed  long  poems  to  memory;  music 
students  played  without  notes  before  them;  ordinary, 
everyday  readers  learned  poems  that  they  found  in 
corners  of  newspapers.  So  the  task  before  Living- 
stone was  no  exceptional  one.  At  Stanmore  some- 
thing got  utterly  and  inexplicably  out  of  gear.  He 
could  not  eat.  He  was  nervous  and  strangely  rest- 
less. Being  asked  to  conduct  a  prayer  meeting  in  a 
private  home,  he  grew  confused.  On  Sunday,  in  the 
church,  he  gave  out  his  text,  "reading  it  very  de- 
liberately," says  Moore,  then  stopped,  hesitating 
and  distraught.  His  eloquence,  his  sermon,  his  very 
message  had  fled.  The  congregation  saw  his  dis- 
comfort, the  members  were  full  of  intense  sympathy, 
and  he  was  conscious  of  their  solicitude.  In  his 
desperation  he  threw  out  his  hands,  saying:  "  Friends, 
I  have  forgotten  all  that  I  had  to  say,"  and  then  left 
the  place.  It  was  disastrous,  but  he  met  the  issue 
squarely.  It  seemed  to  be  an  end  of  things.  At  the 
test  he  had  failed,  and  his  castle  was  a  tumbled  house 
of  cards,  for  Mr.  Cecil,  the  tutor,  reported  the  failure 
to  headquarters.  However,  because  of  the  young 
man's  sterling  qualities  the  examiners  gave  him 
another  opportunity,  and  then  there  was  no  failure. 

Indeed,  everything  went  well  and  smoothly  and 
swiftly,  and  many  a  man  about  to  take  a  common- 
place journey  in  a  railroad  train  is  more  deliberate 
by  far  than  was  Livingstone  when  making  final 
preparation  to  leave  his  native  land,  as  he  thought, 
forever.    On  November  16,  1840,  he  passed  his 


i6 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


examination  and  was  given  his  diploma  as  Licentiate 
of  the  Faculty  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons  of  Glas- 
gow; four  days  later,  he  passed  his  examination  for 
missionary  service.  Two  weeks  after  that,  on 
December  8th,  he  was  a  passenger  on  board  the  ship 
George,  bound  for  Algoa  Bay.  You  picture  him  a 
radiant  figure,  bright-eyed  and  cheerful  because  the 
world  of  his  chosen  activity  was  before  him,  and  be- 
cause of  a  goal  never  before  attempted. 


CHAPTER  II 


HIS  AFRICAN  APPRENTICESHIP 

THE  route  sailed  was  a  circuitous  one,  and  it  was 
five  months  before  the  George  dropped  anchor  in 
Algoa  Bay.  They  touched  Rio  de  Janeiro,  and  laid 
up  a  month  at  Capetown.  But  while  on  board 
Livingstone  studied  navigation,  learned  the  use  of 
the  quadrant,  and,  between  whiles,  when  the  captain 
"  rigged  out  the  ship  for  church  on  Sundays,"  preached 
sermons  to  the  sailors.  But  "no  spiritual  good  was 
done  to  anyone  on  board,"  he  wrote. 

During  the  month  at  Capetown  he  had  his  eyes 
opened,  and  he  heard  much  that  caused  a  subtle 
change  in  him.  I  say  that  because  it  is  hard  for  an 
age  like  ours  to  understand  the  silent  rage  that  filled 
Livingstone  when  he  heard  of  the  horrors  of  the  slave  ^ 
trade  and  of  conditions  generally  up  country.  And 
he  did  hear  much  during  the  month  he  stayed  at 
Capetown.  For  there  were  truthful  tongues,  and 
there  were  tongues  that  distorted  and  poisoned 
truth.  We  of  to-day  remember  certain  things,  but 
only  as  far-away  horrors.  We  know  that  the  com- 
merce in  human  beings  had  brutalized  a  tract  of 
country  some  four  million  square  miles  in  extent. 
We  know  that  England  abolished  the  slave  trade  in 
the  year  1807.    We  know  that  the  United  States  set 

17 


i8 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


its  face  against  the  evil  in  1862.  But  when  we  think 
of  the  slave  trade,  it  is  in  terms  of  involuntary  servi- 
tude, knowing  by  history  and  tradition  only  one 
phase  of  it,  and  that  something,  at  least,  like  the 
concrete  picture  presented  by  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe 
in  her  book,  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.  Of  the  phase  before 
that,  of  the  traffic  in  slaves  and  all  that  the  traffic  im- 
pUed,  we  have  little  conception.  David  Livingstone 
came  to  know  much  he  had  never  even  suspected, 
and  it  all  struck  him  with  so  forcible  a  shock  that  he 
had  to  restrain  his  emotions.  He  heard]of  raids  made 
by  Boers  and  by  renegade  Englishmen  upon  native 
villages.  He  heard  stories  of  men,  women,  and 
children  stolen.  He  heard  of  a  ship  at  sea  packed 
with  slaves,  far  closer  packed  than  men  pack  cattle, 
on  which  ophthalmia  had  broken  out  so  that  all  on 
board  were  blind — slaves,  officers,  slave-drivers, 
seamen,  and  steersmen;  and  the  ship  went  wildly, 
the  sport  of  the  winds  and  storms.  There  were  fear- 
ful tales  of  inhuman  cruelties  done  by  Portuguese 
and  Arab  traders;  of  slaves  too  weak  to  walk  being 
beheaded,  or  having  their  hands  and  feet  chopped  off 
and  thus  left  in  the  jungle.  It  was  told,  and  with 
truth,  that  sick  slaves  were  thrown  overboard,  and 
that  living  cargoes  were  deliberately  drowned  when 
a  slave  ship  was  chased,  just  as  contraband  liquor 
is  thrown  away  when  coast-guard  men  chase  smug- 
glers. There  were  tales,  too,  of  commissions  having 
been  issued  by  "the  Grace  of  God,"  with  Divine 
guidance  implored  for  the  captains  of  slavers,  who 
were  to  barter  rum  for  children;  of  slave  decks  no 


HIS   AFRICAN   APPRENTICESHIP  I9 

more  than  five  feet  in  height  so  that  men  were  stowed 
"spoon  fashion,"  lying  on  their  sides.  He  heard 
incredible  stories  and  found  them  to  be  true,  things 
like  the  report  of  a  naval  officer,  who,  being  put  in 
charge  of  a  captured  slaver,  wrote:  "The  slaves  filled 
the  waist  and  gangways  in  a  fearful  jam,  for  there 
were  over  seven  hundred  men,  women,  boys  and 
young  girls.  Not  even  a  waist  cloth  can  be  per- 
mitted among  slaves  aboard  ship,  since  clothing 
so  slight  would  breed  disease.  To  ward  off  death 
I  ordered  that  at  daylight  the  negroes  should  be 
taken  in  squads  of  twenty  and  given  a  salt  bath  by 
the  hose  pipe  .  .  .  and  when  they  were  carried 
below  trained  slaves  received  the  wretches  one  by  one 
and  laying  each  creature  on  his  side,  packed  the  next 
close  against  him,  and  so  on,  .  .  .  till  they 
fitted  into  one  another,  a  living  mass."  The  more 
Livingstone  heard,  the  more  impatient  he  was  to  get 
to  the  dim  jungle  where  men  were  more  vicious  in 
their  cruelty  than  beasts. 

And  at  this  time,  when  there  was  a  message  of  good 
will  to  be  carried  afield,  when  there  was  an  evil  sys- 
tem to  be  overthrown,  at  Capetown,  he  found  many  v 
of  his  brother  missionaries  hanging  close  to  towns  and 
settlements,  talking,  talking,  talking — doing  any- 
thing but  contemplating  conflicts  away  to  the  north, 
where  trouble  was.  He  found  them  at  cross  pur- 
poses, some  ready  to  denounce  the  natives  as  creatures 
cumbering  the  earth,  some  maintaining  that  white 
men  should  hold  in  subjection  the  dark-skinned 
people  who  could  not  or  would  not  utilize  the  land 


20 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


for  the  full  benefit  of  mankind,  and  still  others  who 
denounced  the  white  colonists  as  being  eager  for  the 
spoliation  of  Africa,  but  no  one  doing  anything  to 
mitigate  evil.  Some,  it  almost  seemed,  were  com- 
placent in  its  presence,  or  if  not  that,  then  were  use- 
lessly talking  and  writing  and  hiding  themselves 
from  it  in  a  tangle  of  disputation.  Wherever  Living- 
stone went,  there  were  men  dinning  into  his  ears  their 
opinions,  their  tales  of  woe,  their  advocated  methods 
of  settling  colonial  affairs,  the  sorry  history  of  their 
own  truncated  endeavors,  their  tales  of  poUtical  and 
social  and  moral  corruption.  There  was  the  young 
enthusiast  giving  ear,  but  privately  sorting  gold  from 
dross,  throwing  overboard  delusive  things,  exercising 
his  own  competent  criticism  and  arriving  at  honest 
convictions. 

We  see  Capetown  in  those  days  as  a  sort  of  growing 
colony  very  much  like  many  of  our  inland  towns,  one 
in  which  everybody  knew  everybody.  There  are  no 
records  showing  what  the  population  was  when 
Livingstone  landed  there,  but  it  was  probably  much 
less  than  a  hundred  thousand,  mostly  British  emi- 
grants. The  young  missionary  came  as  a  novelty  to 
them.  And,  while  it  was  known  that  he  was  on  his 
way  to  Algoa  Bay,  there  were  invitations  to  him  to 
preach  in  the  church  of  Dr.  Philip,  the  agent  for  the 
Missionary  Society.  Preach  he  did,  talking  straight 
from  the  shoulder,  thinking  aloud  with  unflinching 
integrity.  As  a  result,  he  was  accused  of  heterodoxy 
by  some  of  the  church  members.  There  were  others 
who  repudiated  him,  others  again  who  challenged 


HIS   AFRICAN  APPRENTICESHIP 


21 


him  as  a  dangerous  theorist  and  innovator.  For  in- 
stead-of  droning  platitudes  and  saying  old  things  he 
had  said  that  there  was  too  much  talking  and  far  too 
Httle  doing;  and  that  the  central  core  of  Christianity- 
was  benevolence.  That  his  preaching  would  cost 
him  something,  he  knew,  but  he  was  prepared  to  pay 
the  price.  His  contention  was  that  if,  in  the  face  of 
social  and  moral  ills,  Christians  lacked  cohesion, 
then  they  were  weakened  to  a  point  of  uselessness. 
He  took  the  stand  that  bland  nebulosity  and  muddled 
well-meaning  arrived  nowhere.  In  short,  he  was 
setting  forth  his  whole  system  of  values,  arrived  at 
by  long  travail,  so  had  little  patience  with  hasty  and 
limited  theorists,  and  said  so  in  no  hesitating  way. 
As  a  result,  there  were  petty  intrigues  and  social 
scorn.  Of  course,  he  cared  for  neither,  but,  years 
afterward,  as  we  shall  see,  when  Livingstone  had  for- 
gotten all  those  imagined  offences  of  his,  some  who 
had  not  forgotten  paraded  their  animosities  and 
hampered  him.  But  how  should  mischievous  con- 
troversy and  petty  fault-finding  affect  this  man? 
How  should  those  without  imagination  and  dis- 
interested intellect  know  of  his  rich  and  wonderful 
dreams?  "This  church,"  he  wrote  to  his  old  tutor, 
"is  a  house  divided  against  itself.  .  .  .  They 
don't  deserve  a  good  pastor,  and  I  don't  see  anything 
for  them  but  dissolution  and  being  remodeled."  So 
he  brushed  the  matter  aside,  then  smiled  and  went 
on  with  his  plans. 

That  little  flurry  and  stir  of  commonplace  jealousy 
might  be  left  unmentioned,  were  it  not  for  the  fact 


22 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


that,  if  we  fail  to  see  David  Livingstone  as  a  brave 
man  doing  things  without  letting  his  mind  be  cor- 
rupted and  his  purpose  weakened,  as  he  had  when  a 
boy,  and  doing  all  without  display  or  heroics,  much 
of  the  extraordinary  work  that  he  did  later,  in  the 
way  of  exploration  while  facing  tremendous  difficul- 
ties, may  seem  to  be  more  than  humanly  possible. 
But  his  unwavering  courage  of  the  mind,  conditioning 
every  action,  must  be  fully  recognized.  It  was  the 
central  fact  of  his  character. 

When,  after  the  month  at  Capetown,  the  ship 
George  arrived  in  Algoa  Bay,  Livingstone  was  restless 
until  the  ox  wagon  was  equipped  and  ready  to  start 
on  the  seven-hundred-mile  journey  up  country  to 
the  Moffat  station  at  Kuruman.  So  keen  was  his 
longing  to  stand  on  the  hilltop  and  see  for  himself 
the  smoke  of  the  thousand  villages  in  unexplored 
land,  that  he  had  already  asked  permission  of  his 
superiors  to  go  forward  wheresoever  he  chose,  at  the 
first  opportunity.  For  that  permission  he  had  to  bide 
his  time. 

Once  started  on  the  way  to  Kuruman,  he  was  as 
high-spirited  as  an  adventurous  boy,  delighting  in  the 
unexpected  and  the  novel  every  mile  of  the  way.  His 
first  book  and  his  letters  fairly  bubble  with  his  de- 
light. Everything  that  he  saw  he  found  refreshing  and 
sustaining.  All  was  brighter  and  better  than  the  pic- 
tures of  his  imagination.  As  the  ox  wagons  lumbered 
along  the  valleys,  he  climbed  neighboring  hills,  and, 
seeing  valley  and  ridge  far  as  the  eye  could  reach, 
wrote  home  that  it  reminded  him  of  Scotland,  but 


HIS   AFRICAN   APPRENTICESHIP  23 

with  a  Sterner  and  grander  note.  He  hobnobbed  with 
Hottentots  and  discovered  them  to  be  "superior  in 
attainments"  to  what  he  had  expected.  He  rode  with 
them  in  their  wagon  for  four  days,  and,  watching 
them,  was  reminded  "of  the  old  Covenanters  praising 
God  amongst  their  native  wilds."  The  vast  star- 
sprinkled  heavens,  the  halting  at  night,  the  making  of 
camp  when  the  sun  had  fallen — these  excited  him 
pleasantly.  "I  like  this  traveling  very  much  indeed," 
he  wrote,  "there  is  so  much  freedom  in  our  African 
manners.  We  pitch  our  tent,  make  our  fire,  wherever 
we  choose;  walk,  ride,  or  shoot  at  game,  as  our  in- 
clination leads  us;  but  there  is  a  great  drawback — we 
can't  study  or  read  as  we  please.  I  feel  this  very  much, 
and  have  made  very  little  progress  in  the  language." 

There  are  signs  aplenty  that  for  the  man  who  had 
known  no  fun  as  a  child  life  had  suddenly  become  a 
stream  of  untroubled  happiness.  Cooped  and  hedged 
as  he  had  been  until  then,  there  had  poured  into  him 
suddenly  the  exaltation  of  the  open,  and  that  exalta- 
tion never  left  him.  As  in  the  case  of  Richard  JefFeries, 
and  many  another,  sudden  fullness  of  physical  life 
caused  a  hunger  of  the  spirit  and  a  speculation  on  his 
chances  for  the  good  hfe.  In  the  end,  he  knew  that  he 
could  submit  to  a  severe  discipline  and  go  without 
many  things  cheerfully  if  it  would  make  men  happier 
and  let  him  look  beyond  the  hills.  Something  Hke 
that  was  the  effect  of  the  new  environment. 

He  felt  that  he  had  touched  the  fringe  of  things 
when  the  ox  train  reached  Kuruman  on  the  last  day 
of  July,  1 841.    The  getting  there  had  been  extraor- 


24 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


dinarily  good  fun,  but  it  left  him  bursting  with 
energy,  and  he  felt  that  it  was  time  to  get  down  to 
work.  There  were  many  problems  and  many  duties, 
and  he  chose  the  duty  that  lay  nearest.  He  began  to 
practise  medicine,  and  soon  his  fame  ran  from  hill 
to  hill.  His  facility  for  enthusiasm  in  his  work  is  re- 
vealed in  a  letter  that  he  wrote  to  his  Scotch  medical 
instructor  as  soon  as  he  got  his  bearings.  "I  have  an 
immense  practice,"  he  wrote.  "  Patients  walk  a  hun- 
dred and  thirty  miles  for  my  advice.  .  .  .  They 
have  more  disease  than  I  expected.  They  are  nearly 
naked,  and  endure  the  scorching  heat  of  the  day  and 
the  chills  at  night  in  that  condition.  Add  to  this 
that  they  are  absolutely  omnivorous.  Indigestion, 
rheumatism,  ophthalmia  are  the  prevailing  diseases. 
.  .  .  They  are  excellent  patients,  too.  There  is 
no  wincing;  everything  prescribed  is  done  instanter. 
Their  only  faihng  is  that  they  get  tired  of  a  long 
course,  but  in  any  operation  even  the  women  sit 
unmoved."  Time  and  time  again,  in  later  writings, 
he  testifies  to  the  fortitude  of  the  natives.  "I  told 
him  [a  boy  sick  with  dysentery,  with  which  Living- 
stone also  suffered  at  the  time]  that  people  moaned 
only  when  too  ill  to  be  sensible  of  what  they  were 
doing;  the  groaning  ceased,  though  he  became  worse." 
That  is  only  a  minor  case.  There  are  other  passages, 
many  others,  in  which  Livingstone  has  much  to  say 
in  praise  of  the  natives'  powers  of  resistance,  of  their 
solemn  patience  under  pain  and  hunger  and  cold  and 
weariness,  of  their  hearty  good  will  and  good  humor 
in  trying  circumstances. 


HIS    AFRICAN    APPRENTICESHIP  2^ 

As  soon  as  Livingstone  had  a  smattering  of  the 
language,  he  swung  a  wide  circle  in  the  Bakwain 
country  in  company  with  some  trading  agents  and 
another  missionary.  That  trip  took  three  months, 
and  during  it  he  came  to  learn  how  little  he  really 
knew  of  the  natives  and  their  ways.  He  also  learned 
how  problems  which  seemed  simple,  grew  complex 
upon  closer  inspection.  There  were  natives,  with 
not  only  one  kind  of  white  man  to  deal  with,  but 
several;  these  white  men  who  held  themselves  to  be 
members  of  a  superior  race  all  for  trading  and 
cheating  and  stealing;  those  preaching  fair  dealing; 
one  group  of  white  men  carrying  blood  and  rapine 
in  their  trail;  another  preaching  gentleness  and  non- 
resistance.  What  was  more,  Livingstone  found  in 
the  natives  some  who  seemed  to  have  all  the  virtues 
he  thought  to  instill  into  them,  some  who  were  men 
of  force  and  ability,  others  as  full  of  cunning  and 
trickery  as  the  white  traders.  English  traders  were 
selling  to  the  natives  those  articles  the  Boers  did  not 
wish  the  natives  to  have— arms  and  ammunition. 
Boers,  again,  did  terrible  things;  made  friends  with 
natives  that  were  planning  attacks  upon  neighboring 
tribes,  then,  when  the  tribe  to  be  attacked  was 
reached,  says  Livingstone,  "the  friendly  natives  are 
ranged  in  front,  to  form,  as  they  say,  a  shield,"  when 
"the  Boers  fire  over  their  heads  till  the  devoted 
people  flee  and  leave  cattle,  wives,  and  children  to 
the  captors.  This  was  done  in  nine  cases  during  my 
residence  in  the  interior,  and  on  no  occasion  was  a 
drop  of  Boer's  blood  shed."    As  for  native  attacks 


26 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


on  the  whites,  in  spite  of  all  reports  to  the  contrary, 
Livingstone  affirms  that  "history  does  not  contain  a 
single  instance  in  which  the  Bechuanas,  even  those 
who  possess  firearms,  have  attacked  either  the  Boers 
or  the  Enghsh."  During  that  swing  into  the  country 
around  Kuruman,  Livingstone  gained  more  first- 
hand information  than  he  well  knew  what  to  do  with. 
Also,  he  had  his  first  experience  with  the  slave-trade 
evil. 

Take  a  typical  incident  of  the  trip,  as  Livingstone 
records  it:  "When  about  150  miles  from  home  we 
came  to  a  large  village.  The  chief  had  sore  eyes:  I 
doctored  them,  and  he  fed  us  pretty  well,  and  sent  a 
fine  buck  after  me  as  a  present.  When  we  got  ten 
or  twelve  miles  on  the  way,  a  little  girl  eleven  or 
twelve  years  old  came  up,  and  sat  down  under  my 
wagon,  having  run  away  with  the  purpose  of  coming 
with  us  to  Kuruman,  where  she  had  friends.  She 
had  lived  with  a  sister  lately  dead.  Another  family 
took  possession  of  her  for  the  purpose  of  selling  her 
as  soon  as  she  was  old  enough  for  a  wife,  but  not 
liking  this  she  determined  to  run  away.  With  this 
intention  she  came,  and  thought  of  walking  all  the 
way  behind  my  wagon.  I  was  pleased  with  the 
determination  of  the  little  creature  and  gave  her 
food,  but  before  long  heard  her  sobbing  violently  as 
if  her  heart  would  break.  On  looking  round  I  ob- 
served the  cause.  A  man  with  a  gun  had  been  sent 
after  her,  and  had  just  arrived.  I  did  not  know  well 
what  to  do,  but  was  not  in  perplexity  long,  for 
Pomare,  a  native  convert  who  accompanied  us. 


HIS   AFRICAN   APPRENTICESHIP  27 

Started  up  and  defended  her.  He,  being  the  son  of  a 
chief,  and  possessed  of  some  little  authority,  managed 
the  matter  nicely.  She  had  been  loaded  with  beads, 
to  render  her  more  attractive  and  fetch  a  higher  price. 
These  she  stripped  off  and  gave  to  the  man.  I  after- 
wards took  measures  of  hiding  her,  and  if  fifty  men 
had  come  they  would  not  have  got  her." 

After  that  three  months'  trip,  Livingstone  found 
himself  possessed  of  such  a  wealth  of  new  experience 
that  for  the  sake  of  a  clearer  and  wider  vision  he  de- 
cided to  go  into  the  quiet  in  order  to  reflect.  And, 
characteristically,  he  did  his  job  very  thoroughly.  A 
secluded  place  which  the  natives  called  Lepoloh  at- 
tracted him,  and  there  he  went  for  a  half  year.  He 
wanted  to  be  quiet  to  experiment.  He  wanted  to  test 
himself.  Above  all,  he  aimed  at  the  estabHshment  of 
direct  and  kindly  relations  and  intercourse  with  the 
natives.  So  he  made  his  home  among  the  people  he 
studied.  He  entered  into  their  ideas  and  ways  of  feel- 
ing. He  did  not  find  them  to  be  creatures  of  tiger-like 
ferocity  who  would  plant  a  spear  in  any  man's  back 
as  those  who  did  not  know  them  at  all  had  described. 
On  the  contrary,  Livingstone  came  to  regard  them  as  y 
creatures  of  unlimited  possibilities,  whimsical,  light- 
hearted,  ready  to  accept  guidance.  For  his  part,  he 
threw  over  the  commonly  accepted  belief  that  there 
was  no  intelligence  but  the  white  man's.  Meanwhile, 
he  was  learning  the  language,  a  gain  that  was  to  stand 
him  in  good  stead  later.  He  wrote  to  his  EngUsh  tutor, 
j  Mr.  Cecil,  thus:  "I  have  made  some  progress  in 
I  the  language.    ...    I,  such  a  poor  hand  at 


28 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


languages  when  with  you  .  .  .  having  trans- 
lated some  very  good  English  hymns  into  Bechuana 
rhyme,  six  of  them  have  been  adopted  and  printed 
by  the  French  missionaries.  ...  I  can  speak 
it  now  with  ease,  but  I  am  yet  far  from  perfection." 

While  studying,  he  was  preaching.  And  here  is  the 
place  to  say  that  if,  in  chapters  to  come,  what  may 
seem  to  some  an  insufficient  mention  of  his  preaching 
is  made,  let  it  be  understood  that  no  pressure  of  cir- 
cumstances at  any  time  was  allowed  to  interfere 
with  his  religious  services.  It  will  not  be  necessary 
repeatedly  to  state  in  bare  and  precise  language  that 
on  such  a  day  or  at  such  a  time  he  preached,  just 
as  it  would  not  be  at  all  necessary  in  writing  of  some 
world-famous  executive  to  say  that  he  attended  this 
or  that  meetingof  directors.  Nor,  indeed,  does  Living- 
stone sprinklethe  pages  of  his  Journals  with  references 
to  preaching  and  praying.  I  think  he  would  have 
considered  doing  that  an  exhibition  of  a  kind  of  self- 
righteousness.  Yet  this  must  not  be  allowed  to  mis- 
lead one  about  his  state  of  mind  with  regard  to  these 
things. 

^If  at  this  time  all  went  smoothly  where  the  outward 
Livingstone  was  concerned,  it  was  not  such  easy  sail- 
ing for  the  inner  man.  During  that  period  at  Lepoloh 
he  was  weighing  pros  and  cons.  He  came  to  see  that 
any  attempt  to  preach  Christianity  pure  and  simple 
to  a  people  unprepared  for  it  was  a  waste  of  time. 
No  matter  how  beautiful  and  interesting  the  story  of 
the  redemption,  no  matter  how  clear  and  simple  the 
language,  the  lesson  could  not  possibly  quicken  ex- 


HIS   AFRICAN   APPRENTICESHIP  29 


i  cept  there  was  a  certain  way  of  life  behind  it,  and 
that  way  of  hfe  was  civihzation.  Judging  from  his 
actions,  by  civihzation  he  did  not  mean  the  hfe  of 
Glasgow  and  London,  but  rather  a  way  of  life  happier 
than  the  native  way  into  which  these  people  could  nat- 
urally grow  if  shown  by  Europeans  the  indisputably 
good  things  that  science  could  do  for  man.  (That 
other-minded  Europeans  could  show  them,  or  that 
they  could  discover,  other  uses  of  science  were  possi- 
bihties,  already  being  demonstrated,  that  Livingstone 
did  not,  apparently,  concern  himself  with.)  He  had 
entered  Africa  believing  that  if  a  vision  of  a  perfect 
life  was  presented,  those  who  saw  would  leap  to  make 
the  vision  real.  Civilization  clean  and  perfect  would 
follow  close  on  the  heels  of  an  acceptance  of  Christian 
doctrines,  he  thought.  Experience  taught  him  other- 
wise and  he  came  to  hold  the  belief  that  "neither  civi- 
lization nor  Christianity  [could]  be  promoted  alone," 
but  were,  indeed,  inseparable.  Using  his  medi- 
cal and  other  knowledge  to  bring  in  this  civilization, 
or  in  other  words,  helping  the  people  to  be  happier 
without  destroying  the  good  elements  peculiar  to 
race,  tribe,  and  individual  would  thus  at  the  same 
time,  better  than  by  precept,  bring  in  by  example 
what  he  considered  Christianity  in  its  highest  form. 
Yet,  as  I  have  said,  this  did  not,  he  thought,  make 
simple  preaching,  after  simple  helping,  useless. 
Christianity  could  not,  however,  be  presented  to 
primitive  folk  as  a  hard-and-fast  doctrine  and  a  mat- 
ter of  ceremonies.  It  had  to  be  an  all-pervading 
atmosphere.    As  for  the  standard-bearer  of  Chris- 


30  DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 

tianity,  he  would  have  to  be  active  in  well-doing.  He 
would  have  to  be  ready  to  enter  into  the  simplest  acts 
and  relations  of  Hfe  with  a  zest.  Never  could  he  be 
contemptuous  of  the  common  things.  Social  duty, 
in  its  largest  as  well  as  its  narrowest  sense,  would  be 
an  obligation.  As  for  those  to  be  taught  and  trained, 
they  would  have  to  learn  that  happiness  and  fruitful 
activity  were  closely  allied.  They  would  have  to 
know  that  an  individual  sense  of  duty  and  an  in- 
dividual sense  of  right  and  wrong  meant  pretty 
much  the  same  thing.  Getting  down  to  bed  rock, 
all  that  meant  entering  into  common  everyday  activi- 
ties such  as  planting,  and  trading,  and  buying,  and 
selling;  all  the  economic  relations,  in  fact.  The  na- 
tives would  have  to  be  taught  the  use  of  their  hands 
and  the  way  to  utilize  their  lands.  Religion  would 
have  to  be  a  thing  of  Do  and  Be. 

Livingstone  thought  that  Africans  could  be  made 
happier,  first,  by  being  simply  and  naturally  civilized 
from  without,  gaining  only  that  part  of  European 
civilization  that  would  unquestic.iably  help  them; 
and  second,  by  being  made  simple  fundamentalist 
Christians.  There  was  a  less  questionable  counter- 
part in  his  own  nature.  He  found  that  he  could  be 
happiest,  first,  by  giving  Africans  what  he  could  of 
that  part  of  European  civilization  that  was  indisputa- 
bly good  for  them;  second,  by  making  Africans 
simple  Christians;  and  third,  and  most  important  of 
all,  by  exploring  until  he  came  across  a  people  and  a 
country  new  to  the  white  man's  way.  In  him  this 
systematization  of  values  seems  to  have  been  at- 


HIS   AFRICAN   APPRENTICESHIP  3I 


tended  by  some  conflict,  as  we  shall  see  later,  but 
it  was  indubitably  without  serious  losses,  for  Living- 
stone was  one  of  the  profoundly  happy  men  of 
history. 

There  is  a  Hvely  instance  of  how  things  went  when 
practice  preceded  or  supplanted  instruction.  One 
day  he  walked  over  the  mountains  to  where  Chief 
Buhr  lived,  because  he  had  heard  that  the  people, 
who  cultivated  the  soil  in  a  primitive  way,  were  in 
sore  straits  from  drought.  The  rain-makers  had  been 
busy  burning  their  charcoal  made  of  roasted  bats  and 
cony  dung,  their  jackals'  livers,  baboons'  and  lions' 
hearts,  chanting  and  making  incantations  the  while. 
(Incidentally,  let  it  be  remembered  that,  less  than 
a  hundred  and  thirty  years  before,  in  England,  at 
Huntingdon,  a  woman  and  her  daughter  aged  nine 
were  hanged  on  a  charge  of  witchcraft  and  rainstorm 
raising  by  means  of  incantations,  and  that  as  late 
as  1895,  a  twenty-seven-year-old  woman  was  burned 
as  a  witch  at  Baltyvadhew,  Tipperary,  Ireland.  It  is 
poor  business  to  smile  too  broadly  at  the  African.) 
"As  I  did  not  like  to  be  behind  my  professional 
brethren,"  writes  Livingstone,  "I  declared  that  I 
could  make  rain,  too,  not,  however,  by  enchantment 
like  them,  but  by  leading  out  their  river  for  irrigation. 
The  idea  took  mightily  and  to  work  we  went.  Even 
the  chief's  own  doctor  [conjurer]  went  at  it,  laughing 
heartily  at  the  cunning  of  the  foreigner  who  could 
make  rain  so.  We  had  only  one  spade,  and  that  with- 
out a  handle,  but  yet  by  sticks  sharpened  we  dug  a 
pretty  long  canal.    The  earth  was  Hfted  out  by 


32 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


*gouporis'  and  carried  to  the  huge  dam  built,  in 
karosses,  tortoise  shells,  and  wooden  boats."  Nor 
will  it  do  to  read  the  story  for  its  passing  interest. 
There  is  the  thing  behind  it,  and  that  thing  the  evi- 
dence of  the  executive  in  the  man,  the  experience 
and  intelligence  by  which  energy  could  be  turned  into 
results.    If  that  factor  is  missed,  all  is  missed. 

Livingstone  adds:  "This,  I  believe,  is  the  first  in- 
stance in  which  Bechuanas  have  been  got  to  work 
without  wages."  And  again,  in  another  place,  re- 
ferring to  the  same  incident  he  says:  "If  these  people 
perceive  anyone  in  the  least  dependent  on  them,  they 
begin  to  tyrannize.  ...  I  make  my  presence 
with  any  of  them  a  favor,  and  when  they  show  any 
impudence  I  threaten  to  leave  them,  and  if  they  don't 
amend,  I  go.  They  are  in  one  sense  fierce,  and  in 
another  the  greatest  cowards  in  the  world.  By  a 
bold,  free  course  among  them  I  have  not  had  the  least 
dijfficulty  in  managing  the  most  fierce.  A  kick 
would,  I  am  persuaded,  quell  the  courage  of  the 
bravest  of  them.  Add  to  this  the  report,  which 
many  of  them  believe,  that  I  am  a  great  wizard,  and 
you  will  understand  how  I  can  with  great  ease  visit 
any  of  them." 

David  Livingstone  went  back  to  Kuruman  ex- 
pecting instructions  from  headquarters,  hoping  for 
permission  to  venture  into  new  lands  as  he  saw  fit; 
but  there  was  no  word.  So  he  settled  down  to  hum- 
drum work,  teaching  and  playing  physician.  He 
gives  a  picture  of  the  daily  life  at  Dr.  MolFat's  sta- 


HIS   AFRICAN   APPRENTICESHIP  33 


tion:  "We  rose  early,  because,  however  hot  the  day 
may  have  been,  the  evening,  night,  and  morning  at 
Kolobeng  were  deliciously  refreshing;  cool  is  not  the 
word,  where  you  have  neither  an  increase  of  cold 
nor  heat  to  desire,  and  where  you  can  sit  out  until 
midnight  with  no  fear  of  coughs  or  rheumatism. 
After  family  worship  and  breakfast  between  six  and 
seven,  we  went  to  keep  school  for  all  who  would 
attend — men,  women,  and  children  being  invited. 
School  over  at  eleven  o'clock,  while  the  missionary's 
wife  was  occupied  in  domestic  matters,  the  mission- 
ary himself  had  some  manual  labor  as  a  smith,  car- 
penter, or  gardener,  according  to  whatever  was 
needed  for  ourselves  or  for  the  people;  if  for  the  latter, 
they  worked  for  us  in  the  garden,  or  at  some  other 
employment;  skilled  labor  was  thus  exchanged  for 
unskilled.  After  dinner  and  an  hour's  rest,  the  wife 
attended  her  infants'  school,  which  the  young,  who 
were  left  by  their  parents  entirely  to  their  own  caprice, 
liked  amazingly,  and  generally  mustered  a  hundred 
strong;  or  she  varied  that  with  a  sewing  school, 
having  classes  of  girls  to  learn  the  art;  this,  too,  was 
equally  well  rehshed.  During  the  day,  every  oper- 
ation was  superintended,  and  both  husband  and  wife 
must  labor  till  the  sun  declines.  After  sunset  the 
husband  went  into  the  town  to  converse  with  anyone 
willing  to  do  so,  sometimes  on  general  subjects,  at 
other  times  on  religion.  On  three  nights  of  the  week, 
as  soon  as  the  milking  of  the  cows  was  over  and  it 
had  become  dark,  we  had  a  public  religious  service, 
and  one  of  instruction  on  secular  subjects,  aided  by 


34 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


pictures  and  specimens.  These  services  were  diversi- 
fied by  attending  upon  the  sick  and  prescribing  for 
them,  giving  food,  and  otherwise  assisting  the  poor 
and  wretched.  We  tried  to  gain  their  affections  by 
attending  to  the  wants  of  the  body.  The  smallest 
act  of  friendship,  an  obliging  word  and  civil  look,  are, 
as  St.  Xavier  thought,  no  despicable  part  of  the  mis- 
sionary armor.  Nor  ought  the  good  opinion  of  the 
most  abject  to  be  uncared  for,  when  poHteness  may 
secure  it.  Their  good  word  in  the  aggregate  forms 
a  reputation  which  may  be  well  employed  in  procur- 
ing favor  for  the  Gospel.  Show  kind  attention  to  the 
reckless  opponents  of  Christianity  on  the  bed  of 
sickness  and  pain,  and  they  never  can  become  your 
personal  enemies.  Here,  if  anywhere,  love  begets 
love," 

Out  of  that  pleasant  ease  he  went  one  day  to  walk 
a  hundred  miles  to  visit  the  chief  of  the  Bechuanas,  a 
man  named  Sechele.  This  man  was  between  forty 
and  fifty  years  of  age,  and  he  disputed  with  Living- 
stone with  the  gravity  of  a  judge. 

"If  it  is  true,"  he  asked,  "that  all  who  die  un- 
forgiven  are  lost  forever,  why  did  not  your  people 
come  to  tell  us  of  it  before  now?  My  ancestors  are 
all  gone,  and  none  of  them  know  anything  of  what 
you  tell  me.    How  is  this?" 

There  was  no  use  in  argument,  so  Livingstone 
turned  to  deeds.  For  Sechele's  daughter,  an  only 
child,  was  sick  of  a  fever,  and  her  cure  was  easy. 
That  made  for  Sechele's  friendship,  and  his  friendship 
passed  into  a  sort  of  spirited  partisanship,  which 


HIS   AFRICAN   APPRENTICESHIP  3^ 


after  a  while  grew  into  a  mild  acceptance  of  Chris- 
tianity. The  chief  considered  that  any  attempt  to 
persuade  his  people  to  any  other  way  of  life  except 
that  to  which  they  were  accustomed,  would  be  waste 
of  time  and  effort.  But  coercion,  he  decided,  would 
work  wonders,  and  coercion  he  was  ready  to  adopt. 

"Do  you  believe,"  he  asked,  "that  these  people 
will  ever  believe  by  your  merely  talking  to  them? 
I  can  make  them  do  nothing  except  by  thrashing 
them;  and,  if  you  like,  I  shall  call  my  headman  and 
with  our  litups  [whips  of  rhinoceros  hide]  we  will  soon 
make  them  believe,  altogether." 

Meanwhile,  Sechele's  own  private  difficulty  lay  in 
the  question  of  polygamy.  He  had  five  wives,  and 
to  divorce  four  of  them  seemed  not  only  unkind  but 
unwise.  Unwise,  because  separation  would  be  fol- 
lowed by  the  enmity  of  the  woman,  her  friends,  her 
relatives,  and  those  of  the  tribe  of  which  she  was  a 
member. 

As  for  converting  the  tribe,  there  were  vast  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  of  that,  difficulties  which  Living- 
stone could  not  combat.  A  drought  lay  on  the  land, 
and,  while  Livingstone  set  his  face  against  incanta- 
tions, his  prayers  for  rain  seemed  to  have  no  effect. 
"We  like  you  as  well  as  if  you  had  been  born  among 
us,"  said  Sechele's  uncle.  "You  are  the  only  white 
man  we  can  become  familiar  with;  but  we  wish  you 
to 'give  up  that  everlasting  preaching  and  praying. 
.  .  .  You  see  we  never  .get  rain,  while  those  tribes 
who  never  pray  obtain  abundance."  And,  says 
Livingstone  in  his  Journal,  this  was  a  fact,  adding 


36 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


that  he  often  saw  it  raining  on  the  hills  ten  miles  off. 
"If  the  Prince  of  the  power  of  the  air  had  no  hand  in 
scorching  us  up,  I  fear  I  often  gave  him  the  credit  of 
doing  so." 

So  with  one  thing  and  another,  there  was  a  tighten- 
ing of  bonds  against  the  missionary's  effort  to  intro- 
duce his  faith,  but  also  a  ready  acceptance  of  him 
as  a  man  useful  to  the  tribe  because  of  his  common 
sense  and  his  knowledge  of  medicine.  Livingstone 
made  ready  to  return  to  Kuruman,  hoping  to  find  the 
awaited  permission  to  go  ahead  in  his  own  way  into 
the  unexplored  places. 

At  parting,  he  spoke  of  that  desire  to  Sechele,  and 
the  chief's  comment  was  a  startling  one.  Pointing 
in  the  direction  of  the  Kalahari  desert,  he  said: 
"You  never  can  cross  that  country  to  the  tribes  be- 
yond; it  is  utterly  impossible  even  for  us  black  men, 
except  in  certain  seasons,  when  more  than  the  usual 
supply  of  rain  falls,  and  an  extraordinary  growth  of 
watermelons  follows.  Even  we  who  know  the  coun- 
try would  certainly  perish  without  them."  The  chief 
was  very  positive  indeed.  Yet  Sechele  himself  was 
eager  to  go  into  the  unknown  land,  because  some- 
where in  the  north  lived  a  famous  chief  named 
Sebituane  who  had  once  saved  his  life.  Both  Living- 
stone and  Sechele  were  very  near  to  the  time  of  going 
into  the  unexplored  land,  though  neither  thought  so. 


CHAPTER  III 


SETTLEMENT  AT  MABOTSA 

OT  until  June,  1843,  did  Livingstone  get  per- 


X\|  mission  from  headquarters  to  choose  his  own 
field,  and  then  he  was  all  tense  to  start.  Already  he 
had  penetrated  farther  north  than  any  white  man, 
but  he  felt  that  he  was  on  the  fringe  of  things. 

When  his  friends  spoke  of  danger  and  sacrifice,  he 
expressed  himself  in  much  the  same  way  in  whiah 
others  who  have  been  in  untrodden  lands  have  ex- 
pressed themselves:  "I  don't  feel  anything  we 
usually  call  sacrifices  at  home  to  be  such.  There  is 
so  much  to  counterbalance  them  they  really  don't 
deserve  the  name,  and  I  am  in  a  great  deal  more  dan- 
ger from  levity  than  from  melancholy.  ...  It 
is,  therefore,  no  virtue  in  me  to  endure  privations,  it 
is  only  in  those  who  feel  them  as  such.  I  wish  my 
mind  were  more  deeply  aflFected  by  the  condition  of 
those  who  are  perishing  in  this  heathen  land.  I  am 
sorry  to  say  I  don't  feel  half  as  concerned  for  them 
as  I  ought."  There  spoke  the  true  adventurer, 
seeming  to  stay-at-homes  to  make  light  of  danger  in 
a  sort  of  bravado,  but  actually  telHng  the  truth,  and 
not  acting.  Compare  the  passage  with  another  by 
Darwin,  at  the  end  of  his  Voyage  of  the  Beagle,  in 
which  he  says:  "He  [the  adventurer  in  new  lands] 


37 


38 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


may  feel  assured  he  v^ill  meet  with  no  difficulties  or 
dangers,  excepting  in  rare  cases,  nearly  as  bad  as  he 
beforehand  anticipates."  And  the  effect  of  travel, 
says  the  same  w^riter,  is  "to  teach  good-natured  pa- 
tience, freedom  from  selfishness,  the  habit  of  acting 
for  oneself,  and  of  making  the  best  of  everything." 
So  also  says  Livingstone.  This  light-heartedness — 
what  is  there  in  it  but  incurable  boyishness  and  ani-^ 
mal  vitality.''  Like  a  healthy  boy  he  entered  so  fully 
into  the  joy  of  life  itself  that  he  could  not  take  things 
ruefully,  or  heavily,  or  sorrowfully.  Indeed,  no  one 
can  in  whom  the  sap  of  life  runs  strongly.  Had  he 
taken  things  heavily,  he  could  never  have  accom- 
plished a  fraction  of  the  work  he  stood  on  the  verge 
of  accomplishing.  As  for  his  concern  at  his  light- 
heartedness,  does  it  not  fit  in  with  the  rough  outline 
I  have  given  of  his  general  state  of  mind? 

The  place  chosen  for  the  Livingstone  mission  sta- 
tion was  called  Mabotsa,  and  was  about  two  hundred 
miles  to  the  northeast  of  Kuruman. 

A  letter  written  before  leaving  Kuruman,  to  his 
friend  and  tutor  Mr,  Cecil,  is  characteristic,  and  also 
interesting  as  revealing  certain  decisions  at  which  he 
had  arrived.  In  it  he  said  things  in  a  thinking-aloud 
kind  of  way.  He  made  it  clear  that  he  did  not  want 
the  natives  to  value  him  for  his  personality  or  for  his 
medical  skill,  as  they  seemed  to  be  doing.  He  had  a 
paramount  message  and  a  paramount  duty — the 
first  to  preach  the  gospel,  the  second  to  advance 


SETTLEMENT   AT   MABOTSA  39 

civilization.  "I  did  not  at  first  intend  to  give  up  all 
attention  to  medicine  and  the  treatment  of  disease," 
he  wrote,  "but  now  I  feel  it  to  be  a  duty  to  have  as 
little  to  do  with  it  as  possible.  I  shall  attend  to 
none  but  severe  cases  in  future,  and  my  reasons  for 
this  determination  are,  I  think,  good.  The  spiritual 
amelioration  of  the  people  is  the  object  for  which  I 
came,  but  I  cannot  expect  God  to  advance  this  by 
my  instrumentality  if  much  of  my  time  is  spent  in 
more  temporal  amelioration.  And  I  know  that  if  I 
gave  much  attention  to  medicine  and  medical  studies, 
something  Hke  a  sort  of  mania  which  seized  me  soon 
after  I  began  the  study  of  medicine  would  increase, 
and  I  fear  would  gain  so  much  power  over  me  as  to 
make  me  perhaps  a  very  good  doctor  but  a  useless 
drone  of  a  missionary.  I  feel  the  self-denial  this  re- 
quires, very  much,  but  it  is  the  only  real  sacrifice  I 
have  been  called  on  to  make,  and  I  shall  try  to  make 
it  willingly." 

So  there  he  was  in  fierce  rebellion  against  an  activ- 
ity that  he  loved  because  of  a  mysterious  something 
calling  him  onward  and  onward.  His  bounden  duty 
was  to  carry  the  standard  he  had  raised  up,  and  carry 
it  he  would,  otherwise  there  could  be  no  harmony  in 
his  soul.  He  knew  himself  to  be  inspired  from  within 
to  teach  spiritual  truths,  and  all  other  facts  had  to 
be  subordinated  to  that  purpose.  Some  said  that  he 
had  done  much,  was  getting  along  very  well,  ought 
not  to  hurry  matters,  but  he  felt  that  everything  done 
had  been  nothing  but  the  beginning  of  an  apprentice- 


40 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


ship,  and  that  the  master  work  lay  beyond  the 
horizon.  Duty  and  the  hidden  country  called  him 
with  loud  trumpets. 

It  appears,  too,  that  some  of  the  older  missionary 
hands  who  liked  the  bright-eyed  young  man,  feared 
for  him,  or  pretended  to.  The  Missionary  Society 
Agent  for  the  district  had  solemnly  warned  him 
that  he  was  "not  to  think  of  building  a  house  on  a 
volcano,"  and  assured  him  that  a  native  chief  named 
Mosilikatse  had  threatened  to  "pounce  on  any 
white  man  and  spill  his  blood."  Those  warnings  he 
followed  up  with  a  hint  that  permission  to  go  into 
uncharted  lands  beyond  Mabotsa  would  not  be  given. 
To  that  Livingstone  wrote,  in  the  spirit  of  Nelson  at 
Copenhagen,  "I  intend  to  go  then  without  per- 
mission." 

It  seems  abundantly  clear  why  Livingstone  was 
considered  by  his  associates  something  of  an  enigma. 

Two  English  sportsmen  were  his  companions  on 
the  road  between  Kuruman  and  Mabotsa,  both  of 
them  from  India,  a  Mr.  Pringle  and  his  friend,  Sir 
Thomas  Steele.  The  journey  was  made  without 
incident,  Livingstone  looking  upon  it  as  a  holiday. 
The  seriousness  that  he  imagined  he  should  be  full 
of  was  not  in  him,  nor  could  he  ever  discover  it. 
Always  robust  and  always  energetic,  his  constant 
mood  was  one  of  serenity  and  well-being.  Because 
of  that  high-heartedness,  he  made  friends  always  and 
everywhere,  as  those  who  never  make  their  com- 
panions a  receptacle  for  their  own  ill-humors  must 


SETTLEMENT  AT  M A B O T S A 


41 


always  do.  Though  Livingstone  parted  from  the 
others  at  Mabotsa,  during  that  journey  something 
had  grown  that  bound  the  three  Enghshmen  together 
for  a  Ufetime. 

At  once  he  set  to,  and  built  his  house  with  his  own 
hands,  then  went  to  work  to  do  what  he  could  with 
the  neighboring  Bakatla.  He  found  them  very  pleas- 
ant and  Ukable  folk,  and  worked  with  them,  played 
with  them,  and  lived  with  them. 

When  trouble  came,  he  fought  for  them,  even  gird- 
ing himself  to  attack  a  troop  of  lions  that  attacked 
the  herds  and  that  the  natives  could  not  combat  very 
successfully,  their  only  weapons  being  spears.  "We 
found  the  animals  on  a  small  hill  covered  with  trees. 
The  men  formed  round  it  in  a  circle,  and  gradually 
closed  up  as  they  advanced.  Being  below  on  the 
plain  with  a  native  schoolmaster  named  Mabalwe,  I 
saw  one  of  the  lions  sitting  on  a  piece  of  rock  within 
the  ring.  Mabalwe  fired  at  him,  and  the  ball  hit 
the  rock  on  which  the  animal  was  sitting.  He  bit 
at  the  spot  struck,  as  a  dog  bites  at  a  stick  or  stone 
thrown  at  him;  and  then,  leaping  away,  broke 
through  the  circle  and  escaped  unhurt.  If  the 
Bakatla  had  acted  according  to  the  custom  of  the 
country,  they  would  have  speared  him  in  his  attempt 
to  get  out,  but  they  were  afraid  to  attack  him.  When 
the  circle  was  re-formed,  we  saw  two  other  lions  in 
it,  but  dared  not  fire  lest  we  should  shoot  some  of 
the  people.  The  beasts  burst  through  the  line,  and, 
as  it  was  evident  the  men  could  not  be  prevailed 
on  to  face  their  foes,  we  bent  our  footsteps  towards 


42 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


the  village.  In  going  round  the  end  of  the  hill  I  saw 
a  lion  sitting  on  a  piece  of  rock,  about  thirty  yards  off, 
with  a  little  bush  in  front  of  him.  I  took  a  good  aim 
at  him  through  the  bush,  and  fired  both  barrels  into 
it.  The  men  called  out,  *He  is  shot!  He  is  shot!' 
Others  cried,  'He  has  been  shot  by  another  man,  too; 
let  us  go  to  him.'  I  saw  the  lion's  tail  erected  in 
anger  and,  turning  to  the  people,  said,  'Stop  a  little 
till  I  load  again.'  When  in  the  act  of  ramming  the 
bullet,  I  heard  a  shout,  and,  looking  round,  I  saw  the 
lion  in  the  act  of  springing  on  me.  He  caught  me 
by  the  shoulder,  and  we  both  came  to  the  ground 
together.  Growling  horribly,  he  shook  me  as  a  ter- 
rier dog  does  a  rat.  The  shock  produced  a  stupor 
similar  to  that  which  seems  to  be  felt  by  a  mouse 
after  the  first  grip  of  the  cat.  It  caused  a  sense  of 
dreaminess,  in  which  there  was  no  sense  of  pain  nor 
feeling  of  terror,  though  I  was  quite  conscious  of  all 
that  was  happening.  It  was  like  what  patients 
partially  under  the  influence  of  chloroform  describe 
— they  see  the  operation  but  do  not  feel  the  knife. 
This  placidity  is  probably  produced  in  all  animals 
killed  by  the  carnivore;  and  if  so,  is  a  merciful  pro- 
vision of  the  Creator  for  lessening  the  pain  of  death. 
As  he  had  one  paw  on  the  back  of  my  head,  I  turned 
round  to  relieve  myself  of  the  weight,  and  saw  his 
eyes  directed  to  Mabalwe,  who  was  aiming  at  him 
from  a  distance  of  ten  or  fifteen  yards.  His  gun, 
which  was  a  flint  one,  missed  fire  in  both  barrels. 
The  animal  immediately  left  me  to  attack  him,  and 
bit  his  thigh.    Another  man,  whose  fife  I  had  saved 


SETTLEMENT   AT   MABOTSA  43 

after  he  had  been  tossed  by  a  buffalo,  attempted  to 
spear  the  lion,  upon  which  he  turned  from  Mabalwe 
and  seized  this  fresh  foe  by  the  shoulder.  At  that 
moment  the  bullets  the  beast  had  received  took  effect, 
and  he  fell  down  dead.  The  whole  was  the  work  of  a 
few  moments,  and  must  have  been  his  paroxysm  of 
dying  rage.  In  order  to  take  the  charm  from  him, 
the  Bakatla  on  the  following  day  made  a  huge  bonfire 
over  the  carcass  which  was  the  largest  ever  seen. 
Besides  crunching  the  bone  into  splinters,  eleven  of 
his  teeth  had  penetrated  the  upper  part  of  my  arm." 

Such  was  the  adventure  which  left  him  with  a  false 
joint  in  his  arm,  and  from  the  effects  of  which  he 
never  quite  recovered,  physically.  A  curious  thing, 
very  characteristic  of  the  man,  is  that  if  it  had  not 
been  for  the  insistence  of  his  friends,  he  would  have 
not  told  the  story  of  the  lion  adventure,  because 
doing  so  seemed  to  him  to  be  too  much  akin  to  talking 
about  himself.  It  was  not  "the  thing  in  itself," 
therefore  it  was  unworthy  of  consideration.  Nor 
would  he  subtly  magnify  his  own  adventure  by  set- 
ting his  opponent  on  a  high  pedestal.  The  lion  had 
been  called  the  king  of  beasts,  it  had  been  con- 
sidered symbolic  of  bravery,  poets  had  rhapsodized 
about  it,  and  England  had  accepted  it  as  a  sort  of 
totem;  but  Livingstone  was  a  man  seeing  things  for 
himself  and  with  his  own  eyes,  and  what  he  saw  he 
would  set  down,  whether  it  coincided  with  popular 
conceptions  or  not.  So  he  tells  us  that  the  man- 
eating  lion  is  by  no  means  the  vigorous  creature  in 
the  prime  of  Hfe,  full  of  courage  and  daring,  that 


44 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


people  suppose  him  to  be,  but  "invariably  an  old 
lion"  too  old  to  hunt  for  hvelier  game,  which,  failing 
to  catch  tame  village  goats,  or  women  or  children, 
will  fall  to  the  catching  of  mice  and  other  small 
rodents,  and  even  to  eating  grass.  Indeed,  "the 
natives  observing  undigested  vegetable  matter  in  his 
droppings,  follow  up  his  trail  in  the  certainty  of 
finding  him  scarcely  able  to  move  under  some  tree, 
and  dispatch  him  without  difficulty."  His  bill  of 
charges  against  what  he  holds  to  be  a  much  overrated 
beast  goes  further  and  deeper.  The  lion  will  attack 
man  only  in  rare  cases  of  hunger,  as  has  been  said, 
and  stands  in  wholesome  fear  of  man.  Lionesses 
"driven  away  by  firearms  [have]  been  known  to  de- 
vour their  own  young."  This  again:  "When  en- 
countered in  the  daytime,  the  Hon  stands  a  second  or 
two,  gazing,  then  turns  slowly  round,  and  walks  as 
slowly  away  for  a  dozen  paces,  looking  over  his  shoul- 
der; then  begins  to  trot,  and,  when  he  thinks  himself 
out  of  sight,  bounds  off  like  a  greyhound.  By  day 
there  is  not,  as  a  rule,  the  smallest  danger  of  lions 
which  are  not  molested  attacking  man,  nor  even  on 
a  clear  moonhght"  excepting  occasionally  during  the 
breeding  season.  Again :  "Nothing  that  I  ever  heard 
of  the  lion  would  lead  me  to  attribute  to  it  either  the 
ferocious  or  noble  character  ascribed  to  it  elsewhere. 
It  possesses  none  of  the  nobiUty  of  the  Newfoundland 
or  St.  Bernard  dogs." 

Naturally,  for  him  South  Africa  lost  much  of  its 
reputation  for  evil  as  a  land  in  which  danger  and 
death  leaped  from  every  bush.    We  have  his  idea  of 


SETTLEMENT   AT   M A B O T S A 


45 


conditions  in  a  passage  in  his  first  book,  in  which 
he  writes  of  the  beauty  of  the  country:  "I  have  often 
thought,  in  traveling  through  the  land,  that  it  pre- 
sents pictures  of  beauty  which  angels  might  enjoy. 
How  often  have  I  beheld,  in  still  mornings,  scenes 
the  very  essence  of  beauty,  and  all  bathed  in  a  quiet 
air  of  delicious  warmth,  yet  the  occasional  soft 
motion  imparted  a  pleasing  sensation  of  coolness  as 
of  a  fan.  Green,  grassy  meadows,  the  cattle  feeding, 
the  goats  browsing,  the  kids  skipping,  the  groups  of 
herd-boys  with  miniature  bows,  arrows,  and  spears; 
the  women  wending  their  way  to  the  river  with  water- 
ing pots  poised  jauntily  on  their  heads;  men  sewing 
under  the  shady  banians;  and  old  gray-headed  fathers 
sitting  on  the  ground  with  staff  in  hand,  Hstening  to 
the  morning  gossip,  while  others  carry  trees  or 
branches  to  repair  their  hedges;  and  all  this,  flooded 
with  the  bright  African  sunshine,  and  the  birds  sing- 
ing among  the  branches  before  the  heat  of  day  has 
become  intense,  form  pictures  which  can  never  be 
forgotten."  You  see  what  love  he  had  come  to  have 
for  the  land  he  had  made  his  own. 

In  1844  he  returned  to  Kuruman,  married  Mary, 
the  daughter  of  Dr.  Moffat,  and  took  her  back  with 
him  to  Mabotsa. 

His  idea  of  South  Africa  was  not  such  as  to  keep 
him  from  taking  a  wife  into  the  jungle.  The  wedding 
journey,  made  in  an  ox  cart  over  new  country,  was 
no  inconsiderable  feat,  but  Livingstone  dismisses  it 
in  a  word  or  two.    However,  it  behooves  us  to  con- 


46 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


sider  a  few  things,  especially  the  distance.  Let  us 
suppose  a  map  of  South  Africa  to  be  superimposed 
upon  one  of  the  United  States,  both  to  the  same 
scale,  then  mark  with  close  approximation  the  route 
traveled  and  compare  results.  Let  us  say  that  Algoa 
Bay  is  placed  at  Galveston,  Texas.  Then  the  first 
journey  to  Kuruman  would  be  about  equal  to  one 
to  St.  Joseph,  Missouri,  or  thereabouts.  The  cast 
about  the  Bakwain  lands  made  by  Livingstone  would 
roughly  equal  a  journey  to  St.  Louis,  then  to  Quincey, 
where  we  may  suppose  the  oxen  to  have  played  out,  so 
necessitating  a  tramp  on  foot,  carrying  the  impedi- 
menta, back  to  St.  Joseph.  Pushing  on  to  his  own 
station  at  Mabotsa,  Livingstone  would  have  gone  a 
journey  equal  to  one  from  St.  Joseph  to  Davenport, 
Iowa;  then  back  to  St.  Joseph  for  his  bride,  with  a 
honeymoon  trip  back  to  Davenport — all  at  a  speed 
averaging,  say,  three  miles  an  hour.  Thus  we  gain 
some  adequate  idea  of  distances.  But  there  would 
be  no  well-marked  road  (at  the  best  it  would  be,  in 
some  places,  a  five-foot  rutted  trail) — a  slender  line 
through  jungle,  up  hill  and  down  hill,  across  doubtful 
streams  and  rivers  and  swampy  places,  with  unex- 
pected detours.  There  would  be  pushing  and  pulling 
and  the  shouldering  of  burdens  on  occasion,  because 
of  the  thousand  and  one  obstacles  of  an  unbroken 
country.  A  novelist  might  make  a  book  out  of  the 
story  of  that  wedding  trip,  enlarging  upon  all  the 
hardships  and  mental  disciplining,  but  for  Living- 
stone it  was  only  a  step  toward  more  vivid  things. 
There  was  a  year  of  serenity  at  Mabotsa.  / 


SETTLEMENT   AT  MABOTSA 


47 


The  chief,  Sechele,  was  his  first  convert,  but  no 
one  else  in  the  tribe  changed,  so  the  old  warrior  was 
both  lonely  and  disappointed.  "In  former  times," 
he  told  Livingstone,  "if  a  chief  was  fond  of  hunting, 
all  his  people  got  dogs  and  became  fond  of  hunting, 
too.  If  he  loved  beer,  they  all  rejoiced  in  strong 
drink.  But  now  it  is  different.  I  love  your  word  of 
God,  but  not  one  of  my  brethren  will  join  me." 
But  the  chief's  loneliness  strengthened  the  bonds 
binding  him  to  his  white  friend. 

Meanwhile,  the  drought  that  affected  the  land  con- 
tinued, and  the  tribe,  by  Livingstone's  advice,  emi- 
grated to  a  place  forty  miles  north,  the  missionary 
going  with  them.  When  the  stream  at  that  place 
failed,  there  was  another  migration,  and  Livingstone 
built  a  third  house.  When  the  drought  continued, 
the  natives  complained.  Livingstone,  by  his  refusal 
to  permit  incantations  to  bring  rain,  was  obviously 
ruining  the  tribe,  and  when  he  denounced  wizardry 
as  being  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  good  sense  and  true 
religion,  they  accused  him  of  ignorance.  The  white 
man  heard  their  reasoning  with  patience,  and  in  his 
Journal  gives  a  specimen  of  it.  "God,"  they  told 
him,  "made  black  men  first,  but  did  not  love  us  as  he 
did  the  white  men.  He  made  you  beautiful,  and 
gave  you  clothing  and  guns  and  gunpowder,  and 
horses  and  wagons,  and  many  other  things  of  which 
"  we  know  nothing.  But  towards  us  he  had  no  heart. 
He  gave  us  nothing  but  the  assegai,  and  cattle,  and 
rain-making;  and  he  did  not  give  us  hearts  like  yours. 
We  never  love  each  other.    Other  tribes  place  medi- 


48 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


cines  about  our  country  to  prevent  the  rain,  so  that 
we  may  be  dispersed  by  hunger,  and  go  to  them,  and 
add  to  their  power.  We  must  dissolve  their  charms 
by  our  medicines.  God  has  given  us  one  Httle  thing 
which  you  know  nothing  of — the  knowledge  of  cer- 
tain medicines  by  which  we  can  make  rain.  We  do 
not  despise  those  things  you  possess,  though  we  are 
ignorant  of  them.  You  ought  not  to  despise  our 
little  knowledge,  though  you  are  ignorant  of  it."  Yet 
for  all  their  complainings,  "They  all  continued  to 
treat  us  with  respectful  kindness.  ...  I  am  not 
aware  of  ever  having  had  an  enemy  in  their  tribe." 

But  the  situation  was  hard  on  Sechele,  who  was 
chief  as  well  as  accredited  rain-maker.  He  had  set 
himself  against  a  belief  in  the  savage  mind  as  over- 
powering, almost,  as  is  the  belief  in  the  civilized  mind 
that  two  and  two  make  four.  For,  writes  Living- 
stone: "The  belief  in  the  gift  or  power  of  rain-making 
is  one  of  the  most  deeply  rooted  articles  of  faith  in 
the  country.  The  chief  Sechele  was  himself  a  noted 
rain-maker,  and  believed  in  it  implicitly.  He  has 
often  assured  me  that  he  found  it  more  difficult  to 
give  up  his  faith  in  that  than  in  anything  else  which 
Christianity  required  him  to  abjure." 

Meanwhile,  Mary  the  wife  worked  tremendously. 
She  could  and  did  cook,  sew,  milk,  spin,  attend  to  the 
garden  and  chickens,  knit,  bake  bread,  make  clothes, 
teach  the  young  natives  to  read,  and  on  occasion 
play  nurse  and  adviser.  Livingstone  was  black- 
smith, carpenter,  gardener,  doctor,  teacher,  mission- 
ary, gunsmith,  shoemaker.    Much  unselfishness  and 


SETTLEMENT   AT  MABOTSA 


49 


much  heroism  went  into  making  the  mission  what  it 
was.  When  there  were,  very  infrequently,  conver- 
sions, they  were  very  secure  ones  based  on  admiration 
and  friendship  and  observation  of  character  and  con- 
duct, but,  taking  it  by  and  large,  the  natives  were 
obdurate,  in  spite  of  effort  and  close  application. 

The  slowness  of  the  hfe  was  not  to  Livingstone's 
taste.  He  could  be  a  patient,  plodding  weaver,  it  is 
true,  when  the  pattern  pleased  him,  but  this  pattern 
was  not  to  his  taste.  Things  were  too  easy  at  Ma- 
botsa,  and  anyone  could  do  the  work — his  fellow 
missionary,  for  instance,  who  had  no  taste  for  real 
pioneering.  Not  to  put  too  fine  an  edge  on  the  mat- 
ter, Livingstone  and  his  brother  missionary  disagreed. 
It  is  safe  to  infer  that  the  other  was  without  the 
sanguine  temperament  of  Livingstone,  very  probably 
one  somewhat  given  to  look  upon  things  with  an  "if 
this  were  so  and  that  were  otherwise."  Anyway, 
there  was  a  difference  of  opinion  about  which  Living- 
stone does  not  concern  himself  to  write  or  to  give  « 
particulars.  Livingstone  was  married,  it  is  true,  but 
he  was  not  anchored;  and  he  was  as  desperately 
eager  to  go  on  and  on,  into  the  unknown,  as  ever. 
For  him,  fierce  activity,  always  and  always.  He  was 
urged  by  some  high  and  splendid  secret  in  his  own 
soul,  and  he  had  to  follow  his  star.  When  that  is 
said,  all  is  said. 

In  all,  for  four  years  Livingstone  lived  with  Sechele 
and  his  tribe,  and  all  that  time  the  drought  continued, 
all  that  time  suspicion  grew  that  the  trouble  came 
from  the  presence  of  the  white  man  and  his  mad 


50 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


ideas.  Yet  they  obeyed  the  white  man,  digging  their 
wells  deeper,  migrating  to  new  lands,  fighting  against 
fate.  At  the  end  of  the  fourth  year,  there  was  not 
enough  moisture  to  bring  the  grain  to  maturity,  and 
the  cattle  had  diminished  until  starvation  stared  the 
tribe  in  the  face. 

An  idea  of  the  terrible  heat  is  gained  from  Living- 
stone's statement  that,  at  noon,  a  thermometer  buried 
three  inches  below  the  surface  registered  from  132° 
to  134°,  and  beetles  exposed  to  the  sunlight  died  in  a 
few  seconds.  So  dry  was  the  air  that  "needles  lying 
out  of  doors  for  months  did  not  rust." 

Naturally,  then,  with  all  that  trouble  upon  them, 
the  natives  argued  against  Livingstone,  and  the 
arguments  were  destructive.  To  be  sure,  the  tribe 
would  continue  to  shelter  him,  but  to  continue  to 
follow  his  advice  would,  they  thought,  be  at  the  cost 
of  tribal  suicide.  They  would  trust  him,  they  would 
sympathize  with  him,  but  they  could  not  accept  his 
faith  when  all  nature  declared  against  it.  It  is  a 
matter  for  wonder  that  they  endured  so  patiently; 
perhaps  more  wonderful  that,  in  spite  of  all,  he  had 
not  an  enemy  in  the  tribe  who  would  lift  a  hand  to  do 
him  mischief. 

But  the  thought  had  been  growing  upon  him  that 
it  would  be  well  to  leave  the  tribe  and  fare  farther 
afield,  the  more  because  it  was  forced  upon  him 
that  the  native  mind  was  not  turning  in  any  marked 
manner  to  his  teachings  and  faith.  Another  reason 
operated  to  send  him  away  from  the  tribe,  and  it  was 
that  his  presence  might  possibly  precipitate  an  at- 


SETTLEMENT   AT   M A B O T S A 


51 


tack  upon  it  by  Boers,  for  he  had  incurred  their 
enmity.  It  was  this  way:  To  the  east  there  were 
Boers  and  renegades  from  many  countries,  rapscal- 
Hons  and  ne'er-do-wells,  ready  for  any  mischief  and 
of  a  sort  that  are  always  hanging  on  the  fringe  of 
civilization.  Often  they  swept  down  upon  some  out- 
lying village  to  exact  tribute  in  the  form  of  labor, 
"demanding  twenty  or  thirty  women  to  weed  their 
gardens,"  says  Livingstone.  "I  have  seen  these 
women  proceed  to  the  scene  of  unrequited  toil,  carry- 
ing their  own  food  on  their  heads,  their  children  on 
their  backs,  and  instruments  of  labor  on  their  shoul- 
ders." Now,  if  I  have  made  it  plain,  as  I  hope  I  have, 
that  with  Livingstone  the  thought  always  led  to  the 
effective  deed,  it  may  be  imagined  how  his  eyes  would 
glitter  and  his  heart  thump  with  anger  at  the  sight  of 
that  kind  of  thing.  What  would  his  great  compassion 
not  urge  him  to  attempt  to  put  an  end  to  so  sorry  a 
business  ?  Not  once,  but  twice  he  made  a  journey  of 
three  hundred  miles  on  foot  to  see  Commandant 
Krieger  with  an  idea  of  rectifying  matters,  but  to  no 
purpose.  He  was  put  off"  with  excuses.  At  least, 
there  was  an  attempt  made  to  put  him  off.  He  was 
referred  to  this  one  and  to  that.  His  sympathy  was 
misunderstood  and  his  motives  were  questioned. 
But,  at  length,  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  made  headway, 
and  that  some  mitigation  of  the  evil  he  denounced 
was  possible,  so  he  followed  up  a  trail  that  half 
promised  to  mend  matters  if  he  would  promise  to  do 
something  in  return.  When  he  came  to  the  putrid 
heart  of  the  matter,  what  was  it  but  a  suggestion 


52  DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 

that  he  should  act  as  spy  for  the  Boers  over  the  Bak- 
wains,  his  friends  ?  Then,  somehow,  the  sort  of  lie- 
that-sticks  grew.  By  way  of  propaganda,  it  was  re- 
ported that  Livingstone  had  ulterior  motives :  that  he 
wanted  to  be  a  sort  of  chief  over  the  natives,  that  he 
was  stirring  them  up  against  the  whites,  that  he  had 
supplied  the  Africans  with  cannon.  ' 

That  last  report  flew  like  wildfire,  nor  did  any 
explanations  or  denials  suffice.  Traced  down,  the 
myth  was  found  to  have  had  its  seed  in  the  loan  of 
an  iron  pot  for  cooking,  which  Livingstone  made 
Sechele.  It  is  the  pot  that  is  now,  or  was  until  re- 
cently, on  exhibition  in  the  Capetown  Museum. 
But  mark  how  lying  tongues  can  poison  truth,  or 
note  how  misunderstanding  may  breed  further  mis- 
understanding. A  pot  is  round  and  made  of  iron, 
and  so  is  a  cannon.  Where  sign  language  is  depended 
upon  for  information,  the  one  may  be  taken  for  the 
other;  and  so  it  was  in  this  case.  But  explanation 
was  idle.  The  statement  was  erroneous,  to  be  sure, 
but  it  found  ready  acceptance  in  many  quarters  where 
people  wished  to  believe  and  therefore  believed. 
Soon  Livingstone  was  under  a  cloud  of  suspicion, 
which,  though  it  affected  him  hardly  at  all  so  far  as 
he  himself  was  concerned,  yet  had  a  different  effect 
where  it  touched  the  welfare  of  the  natives.  He 
could  meet  the  accusation  with  a  smile  and  a  shrug, 
and  go  his  way,  but  they  could  not.  The  suspicion 
had  grown  to  a  murmuring,  the  murmuring  to  a 
threatening,  and  it  was  told  everywhere  that  a 


SETTLEMENT   AT  MABOTSA 


53 


raid  would  be  made  one  night,  and  the  village  at- 
tacked and  burned.  So,  not  only  did  Livingstone 
walk  among  his  natives  as  one  who  opposed  their 
welfare  in  that  he  prevented  the  coming  of  rain;  but 
he  appeared  as  one  who  might  bring  down  upon  them 
blood  and  fire  and  death.  After  Livingstone  had 
left  Sechele  and  his  tribe,  such  a  disaster  actually  be- 
fell them  at  the  hands  of  the  Boers,  and  Livingstone's 
household  effects  and  little  library  were  destroyed. 

The  whole  affair  kindled  a  fire  in  Livingstone  to 
see  justice  done  and  to  oppose  the  Boers  in  their 
enslavement  of  the  natives.  Livingstone's  summa- 
rized account  of  the  raid  runs:  "The  natives,  under 
Sechele,  defended  themselves  against  four  hundred 
Boers  until  the  approach  of  night,  when  they  fled 
to  the  mountains;  and  having  in  that  defence  killed 
a  number  of  the  enemy,  the  very  first  slain  in  this 
country  by  Bechuanas.  I  received  the  credit  of 
having  taught  the  tribe  to  kill  Boers.  My  house, 
which  had  stood  perfectly  secure  for  years  under  the 
protection  of  the  natives,  was  plundered  in  revenge. 
.  .  .  The  books  of  a  good  library  .  .  .  were 
not  taken  away,  but  handfuls  of  the  leaves  were  torn 
out  and  scattered  over  the  place.  My  stock  of 
medicines  was  smashed;  and  all  furniture  and  cloth- 
ing carried  off  and  sold  at  public  auction  to  pay  the 
expense  of  the  foray.  I  do  not  mention  these  things 
by  way  of  making  a  pitiful  wail  over  my  losses,  nor  in 
order  to  excite  commiseration;  for,  though  I  do  feel 
sorry  for  the  loss  of  lexicons,  etc.,    .    .    ,  yet, 


54 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


after  all,  the  plundering  only  set  me  free  entirely 
for  my  expedition  to  the  north,  and  I  have  never 
since  had  a  moment's  concern  for  anything  I  left  be- 
hind. The  Boers  resolved  to  shut  up  the  interior, 
and  I  am  determined  to  open  the  country,  and  we 
shall  see  who  have  been  the  most  successful  in  resolu- 
tion, they  or  I." 

I  have  written  that  the  raid  took  place  after  Living- 
stone had  left  Sechele.  The  decision  to  go  to  a  cer- 
tain place  across  the  Kalahari  desert  came  to  him 
while  he  was  trying  to  negotiate  with  the  Boers  for 
the  peace  of  the  Bechuanas.  For  across  that  desert 
news  drifted,  and  it  was  that  the  warUke  chief  Sebi- 
tuane,  former  friend  of  Sechele,  had  gathered  to- 
gether the  remnants  of  many  tribes  scattered  by  the 
Boers,  and  had  welded  opposing  elements  into  a 
whole,  over  which  he  ruled.  Much  that  seemed 
astonishing  was  said  of  Sebituane.  He  was  a  nation- 
builder.  His  people  were  given  to  hospitality  and 
truthfulness,  and  honesty  was  demanded  from  all. 
He  had  built  towns  and  had  constructed  wells  and 
roads.  What  was  more  interesting  to  Livingstone 
was  that  Sebituane  had  heard  of  "The  Livingstone," 
and  burned  to  hear  his  message.  There  were  other 
reports:  of  a  desert  to  cross,  of  a  great  lake  unknown 
to  white  men;  of  a  place  of  "sounding  smoke,"  of  a 
land  of  prosperity,  with  healthy  crops  and  cattle. 

As  might  be  expected,  Livingstone  was  not  only 
interested,  but  keen  and  eager  to  go  and  see.  There 
were  those  who  tried  to  argue  against  any  such  ex- 
pedition, who  attempted  to  dissuade  him;  but  to 


SETTLEMENT   AT  MABOTSA 


55 


objections  he  could  not  and  would  not  listen.  It 
was  true  that  there  was  a  desert  to  cross,  and  it  was 
reasonable  to  remember  that  he  had  a  wife  and  chil- 
dren. But  he  had  seen  nothing  in  African  travel, 
thus  far,  that  would  prevent  a  household  from  going 
where  a  man  could  go.  And  he  had  always  thought 
that  if  once  he  could  meet  primitive  people,  un- 
touched in  any  way  by  white  men,  he  could  write 
his  message  clear  where  it  would  have  meaning  and 
effect.  Besides,  there  was  always  in  him  that  passion 
to  know  what  lay  beyond  the  horizon. 

Talking  with  Sechele  about  the  proposed  expedi- 
tion, he  found  that  stout-hearted  warrior  all  for  going 
with  him,  in  spite  of  desert  dangers,  and  only  pre- 
vented because  of  his  duty,  which  necessitated  the 
staying  with  his  people  to  protect  them  from  the 
threatened  Boer  attacks.  But  Sechele  promised  to 
furnish  a  trustworthy  guide,  or  guides,  to  see  Living- 
stone in  safety  across  the  desert  as  soon  as  the  season 
made  a  desert  journey  possible;  though  at  the  wrong 
time,  he  said,  no  man,  be  he  black  or  white,  could 
venture  into  the  heat-dried  place. 

So  Livingstone  began  preparations.  He  wrote  to 
his  friend,  Steele,  the  Madras  officer,  telUng  him  of 
his  intentions,  and  Steele  in  turn  communicated  with 
two  of  his  friends,  adventurers  and  sportsmen, 
William  C.  Oswell  and  Mungo  Murray.  At  once 
they  were  fired  with  the  idea  of  crossing  the  desert 
with  Livingstone,  hunting  hons  and  elephants  while 
doing  so,  and  without  delay  made  their  way  to 
Kolobeng.    Livingstone  was  joyful  enough  at  their 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


coming,  for  he  had  all  ready  that  could  be  got  ready, 
and  on  June  i,  1849,  the  whole  party,  v^ith  Mrs. 
Livingstone  and  her  three  children,  started  into  the 
desert.  Twenty  men,  the  same  number  of  horses,  ox 
carts,  and  eighty  oxen,  formed  the  outfit. 


CHAPTER  IV 


THROUGH  THE  DESERT  TO  THE  ZAMBESI 

THIRTY-THREE  days  they  were  on  that  most 
amazing  journey.  There  were  times,  at  the  be- 
ginning, when  they  saw  the  adventure  as  a  high- 
hearted game;  but  there  were  other  times  when  the 
minds  of  the  men  were  strained,  especially  when  they 
ran  short  of  water  and  the  expected  water  holes  were 
not  found;  or  were  found  dry.  Sometimes  they  were 
in  vast  sandy  tracts,  silvery  gray  at  night,  deceiving 
because  of  the  mirage  by  day.  There  were  days  of 
nothing  but  sand  and  extreme  fatigue,  but  there  were 
other  glorious  days  when  they  cheerfully  set  forth  in 
the  mornings  across  tracts  where  elands  fed,  and 
where  ran  flocks  of  tall  ostriches;  where  were  water- 
melons, and  gorgeous  flowering  shrubs,  and  bushes 
and  trees  and  hlac  flowers.  Then,  another  day. 
Nature  would  strike  a  sterner  note,  with  a  country 
thick  with  thorny  shrub,  and  tough  wire  grass,  and 
"wait-a-bit"  thorns.  Once,  in  the  most  unpromising 
of  places,  they  came  upon  a  Bushwoman,  who,  for 
some  reason  none  could  discover,  had  left  her  tribe. 
If  some  Arabian  Night  genie  had  wished  to  dazzle  and 
bewilder  them,  it  could  have  hit  upon  no  better 
trick.  For  they  were  suff"ering  for  want  of  water, 
while  the  woman,  though  imagining  that  they  in- 

57 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


tended  to  capture  her,  made  no  attempt  to  run  away. 
Writes  Livingstone  in  his  Journal:  "When  I  explained 
that  we  only  wanted  water,  and  would  pay  her  if  she 
led  us  to  it,  she  consented  to  conduct  us  to  a  spring. 
It  was  then  late  in  the  afternoon,  but  she  walked 
briskly  before  our  horses  for  eight  miles,  and  showed 
us  the  water  of  Nohokotas.  .  .  .  We  wished  her 
to  remain.  As  she  believed  herself  still  a  captive, 
we  thought  she  might  skip  away  by  night;  so,  in 
order  that  she  should  not  go  away  with  the  im- 
pression that  we  were  dishonest,  we  gave  her  a  piece 
of  meat  and  a  good  large  bunch  of  beads.  .  .  . 
She  burst  into  a  merry  laugh  and  remained  without 
suspicion." 

They  were  then  only  a  little  distance  from  the 
edge  of  the  desert,  and  on  July  4th  they  came  upon  a 
river,  the  Zouga,  on  the  opposite  bank  of  which  they 
saw  a  native  village  with  the  inhabitants  showing 
every  sign  of  friendliness. 

The  explorers  learned  from  them  that  the  river 
flowed  out  of  the  lake  they  had  heard  of,  and  sought; 
and  that  the  "broad  water"  was  no  more  than  a 
moon  away.  And  so  it  was.  For,  records  Living- 
stone, "on  the  first  of  August,  1849,  for  the  first 
time,  this  fine-looking  sheet  of  water,  Lake  Ngami, 
was  beheld  by  Europeans." 

So  we  imagine  him,  grave  and  courteous  and  thank- 
ful; receiving  the  congratulations  of  his  friends,  but 
refusing  to  take  any  credit  or  praise  whatsoever. 
That  was  characteristic  of  the  man — highly  and  en- 
tirely characteristic.    He  made  a  brief  prayer  of 


THROUGH   DESERT  TO   THE   ZAMBESI  59 

thanks,  which  was  also  characteristic,  for  duty  and 
prayer  ordered  his  Hfe,  but  for  the  rest  he  was  merely 
delighted  that  the  lake  had  been  discovered  and 
thankful  for  the  safe  conduct  of  his  party  there. 
Not  even  in  the  way  of  the  old  Spanish  explorers 
would  he  give  it  a  name.  The  natives  had  called 
it  Ngami,  and  Ngami  it  would  remain.  The  name 
in  familiar  use,  if  not  impossible  to  pronounce,  was 
the  proper  one.* 

The  lake  charted  and  measured,  the  other  duty 
remained  to  be  done — a  visit  to  the  chief  Sebituane, 
who  wanted  to  see  "The  Livingstone,"  and  also  hear 
his  message.  But  the  task  was  not  easy,  for  the 
chief  lived  some  two  hundred  miles  to  the  north,  and 
the  lake  stretched  across  the  route  to  be  followed. 
True,  the  natives  had  canoes  of  a  kind,  that  is,  they 
had  been  hollowed  out  of  tree  trunks  in  a  rough-and- 
ready  way,  so  that  "if  there  was  a  crook  in  the  tree, 
there  was  a  crook  in  the  canoe."  As  for  going  around 
the  lake  to  Sebituane,  that  was  not  feasible  because  of 
a  tribe  whose  chief  disliked  Sebituane  and  refused  the 
white  people  safe  conduct  or  passage. 

Thereupon  Livingstone,  considering  argument  to 
be  a  mere  waste  of  time,  addressed  himself  to  the 
making  of  a  raft,  and  worked  for  many  hours  waist 
deep  in  water  infested  with  alligators,  though  at  the 
time  he  had  no  suspicion  of  that  danger.  "But  I 
never  afterwards  thought  of  that  labor  in  the  water 
without  feeling  thankful  that  I  escaped  their  jaws," 

*It  was  about  twenty  miles  long  and  ten  miles  broad,  and  very  shallow. 
Since  1890  the  waters  have  disappeared,  and  it  is  only  marshland  now, 
with  cornfields  where  Livingstone  and  Oswell  stood. 


6o 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


he  wrote.  Yet  all  his  efforts  at  boat-building  were  in 
vain,  for  the  wood  was  so  worm-eaten  that  a  log 
would  not  bear  the  weight  of  a  man.  Doubtless,  had 
he  been  alone,  he  would  have  made  his  way  across  in 
some  way,  but  there  were  others  for  whose  care  he 
was  responsible,  so  for  the  time  his  own  desires  had 
to  be  thrust  into  the  background.  In  the  end,  he 
consented  to  return  south,  with  the  idea  of  making  a 
later  attempt  to  reach  Sebituane.  And,  to  insure 
success,  Mr.  Oswell  offered  to  go  on  to  Capetown 
and  buy  a  boat  suited  for  lake  work.  In  the  mean- 
time, the  Livingstones  were  to  wait  at  Kolobeng 
until  the  season  made  desert  travel  possible. 

Doubtless,  in  that  arrangement,  which,  consider- 
ing Livingstone's  pertinacity,  seems  a  sort  of  com- 
promise, we  discern  the  workings  of  the  fine  mind  of 
Oswell,  who  had  come  to  love  Livingstone.  For 
Oswell  was  a  man  of  gracious  and  attractive  qualities, 
but  one  whose  mind  was  not  fixed  on  far  horizons  as 
was  the  mind  of  the  explorer-missionary.  As  Oswell 
would  see  it,  while  it  was  well  enough  for  Livingstone 
to  journey  onward  into  unknown  lands,  it  was  not  so 
well  for  a  mother  with  three  children.  That  which 
was  sweetness  for  the  inspired  man  might  well  be 
bitterness  for  those  of  his  flesh  and  blood.  Indeed, 
something  of  Oswell's  interest  in  the  welfare  of  the 
Livingstone  family  is  to  be  inferred  from  a  passage 
we  find  in  the  Journals  of  a  later  date.  For  we  must 
picture,  not  a  woman  and  children  dressed  trimly  and 
fashionably,  as  one  artist  had  portrayed  the  scene 
at  Lake  Ngami,  but  rather  with  old  clothes,  rent  and 


THROUGH   DESERT  TO   THE   ZAMBESI  6l 

patched;  and  perhaps  more  worn  out  than  one  can 
well  imagine.  Here  is  the  passage:  "When,  in  1852, 
we  came  to  the  Cape,  my  black  coat  eleven  years  out 
of  fashion,  and  without  a  penny  of  salary  to  draw,  we 
found  that  Mr.  Oswell  had  most  generously  ordered 
an  outfit  for  the  half-naked  children  .  .  .  and 
presented  it  to  us,  saying  that  he  thought  Mrs. 
Livingstone  had  a  right  to  the  game  of  her  own  pre- 
serves." It  is  possible  to  catch  in  that  something  of 
the  spirit  of  the  two  men:  the  giving  without  arro- 
gance or  display,  and  the  receiving  without  loss  of 
dignity  and  in  perfect  simpUcity. 

But  that  is  getting  a  little  ahead  of  the  story. 
They  turned  south  then,  and  in  the  record  we  have 
little  glimpses  of  suffering  in  the  desert,  with  the 
children  crying  for  water,  and,  now  and  then,  more 
cheerful  days  when  they  saw  the  country  at  its  best. 
There  is  mention  of  lions  and  hyenas  and  elephants 
and  zebras,  of  evenings  when  they  looked  at  far- 
flung  hills  gleaming  like  gold  in  the  sunset,  of  happi- 
ness and  suffering  sometimes  touching  elbows. 

At  last,  they  came  again  to  Kolobeng,  once  the 
place  of  glorious  prospects,  but  that  no  longer.  For 
the  drought  was  still  on  the  land,  and  the  natives 
had  gone  far  and  wide  in  search  of  food.  Game 
could  not  be  found,  and  the  natives  ate  caterpillars, 
y  and  locusts,  and  frogs.  Nor  did  Livingstone  and  his 
family  fare  much  better,  though  Sechele  always  made 
it  a  point  to  send  the  white  people  a  half  of  the 
brisket  of  any  animal  killed.  Indeed,  conditions  at 
Kolobeng  were  so  bad,  that,  by  comparison,  ox- 


62 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


wagon  travel  in  the  desert  seemed  luxurious.  "Wagon 
traveling  in  Africa  ...  is  a  prolonged  system 
of  picnicking,  excellent  for  the  health,  and  agreeable 
to  those  who  are  not  over  fastidious  about  trifles, 
and  who  delight  in  being  in  the  open  air,"  is  Living- 
stone's opinion. 

That,  taken  in  connection  with  Livingstone's 
passion  for  exploration,  and  also  his  tremendous 
desire  to  see  Chief  Sebituane's  country  and  people, 
makes  it  oddly  unsurprising  to  read  of  Livingstone's 
determination  to  go  north  again.  The  strange  per- 
sistence of  the  conqueror  was  in  him — the  persistence 
of  Clovis  and  Alaric  and  Theodoric — of  Columbus 
and  Magellan  and  Cortes — of  Barthema  and  Saewulf 
and  Gordon.  It  is  a  passion  not  to  be  accounted  for, 
that  passion  to  see  the  unseen.  It  is  a  thirst  not  to 
be  assuaged.  It  is  a  hunger  not  to  be  satisfied.  It 
is  a  game  to  be  played  eagerly,  and  until  play  is  no 
longer  possible.  Nothing  can  prevent  that  travel 
appetite:  not  cold,  not  discomfort,  nor  hardship,  nor 
harsh  discipline,  nor  the  fever-burning  forehead  and 
the  parched  tongue. 

In  a  quite  matter-of-fact  way,  Livingstone  writes : 
"I  remained  there  [at  Kolobeng]  till  April,  1850,  and 
then  left  in  company  with  Mrs.  Livingstone,  our 
three  children,  and  the  chief  Sechele — ^who  had 
bought  a  wagon  of  his  own — in  order  to  get  across 
the  Zouga  at  the  lower  end,  with  the  intention  of  pro- 
ceeding up  the  northern  bank  till  we  gained  the  Ta- 
munak'la,  and  of  then  ascending  that  river  to  visit 
Sebituane  in  the  north." 


THROUGH   DESERT  TO  THE    ZAMBESI  63 

Now,  looking  at  things  clear-eyed,  as  one  must,  it 
is  hardly  a  digression  to  say  that,  while  one  Is  in  full 
sympathy  with  the  gallant  knight  so  led  by  his  star, 
there  persists  in  the  mind  a  vision  of  the  housewife, 
perhaps  for  a  time  dismayed  at  what  she  knows  is 
before  her,  then  doing  what  she  could  with  things 
in  the  store  cupboard;  preparing  and  mending  clothes 
that  would  hardly  hold  together,  and  all  the  while 
full  of  fear  that  they  might  not  go  through  that  desert 
unscathed;  remembering  with  a  tremor  a  hundred 
minute  details  of  the  last  trip,  and  busying  herself 
with  a  thousand  needful  activities.  You  see  her 
brisk  and  efficient,  her  hardened  and  capable  hands 
never  resting,  making  provision  for  her  brood  of 
young  children,  for  she,  no  less  than  her  husband,  had 
a  duty  thrust  upon  her.  You  see  the  man,  simple 
and  kind,  but  with  heart  and  mind  very  often  in 
another  world,  seeing  everything  reasonable  and 
justifiable  because  his  eyes  were  on  far  horizons. 
But  she,  with  different  thoughts,  different  occupa- 
tions, gave  herself  willingly  to  the  clearing  away  of 
the  ten  thousand  little  stumbling  blocks  in  the  path 
so  that  he  might  stride  on  more  easily. 

They  went,  then,  over  that  desert  route  again,  and 
to  the  place  on  the  river  Zouga  where  was  a  ford,  and 
there  Sechele  left  them,  for  he  had  guided  them  as  he 
promised  to  do,  and  there  were  businesses  of  his  own 
calling  him. 

Their  course  along  the  north  bank  of  the  Zouga  was 
difficult.  The  road  was  a  mere  native  footpath 
through  thick  forest,  and  many  trees  had  to  be  felled 


64 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


before  the  wagon  could  pass.  There  were  many  pits, 
too,  great  holes  dug  by  the  natives  and  covered  with 
brush,  for  the  capture  of  wild  animals,  and  some- 
times the  oxen  fell  into  them  and  were  lost.  Learning 
that,  the  natives  made  haste  to  uncover  the  pits  so 
that  there  would  be  no  more  of  that  trouble.  Such 
decent  treatment  of  foreigners  is  almost  inconceiv- 
able, but  thus  it  was.  Certainly,  there  was  no  lack 
of  manliness  among  the  natives. 

The  unfavorable  piece  of  news  that  most  impressed 
Livingstone  was  that  along  the  banks  of  the  Tamunak- 
'la,  which  they  were  approaching,  there  were  swarms 
of  the  dreaded  tsetse  fly,  the  bite  of  which  was  certain 
death  to  oxen  and  horses.  "It  was  a  barrier  we 
never  expected  to  meet,"  records  Livingstone.  "As 
it  might  have  brought  our  wagons  to  a  complete 
standstill  in  the  wilderness,  where  no  supplies  for  the 
children  could  be  obtained,  we  were  reluctantly  com- 
pelled to  recross  the  Zouga." 

That  detour  was  the  beginning  of  a  new  adventure, 
the  middle  of  which  was  the  meeting  of  a  party  of 
Englishmen  who  were  hunting;  and  the  end  of  which 
was  the  return  to  Kolobeng.  For  the  Livingstone 
expedition  ran  into  a  party  of  Bayeiye  natives  who 
told  them  of  an  encampment  of  white  men  said  to  be 
on  the  verge  of  death,  a  distance  of  sixty  miles  or  so 
away.  It  was  difficult  to  make  any  speed  with  a 
lumbering  ox  wagon,  but  what  haste  could  be  made 
was  made,  and  in  less  than  three  days  the  luckless 
hunters  were  found.  The  sickness  was  jungle  fever, 
and  one  of  the  party,  an  artist  named  Rider,  had 


THROUGH   DESERT   TO  THE   ZAMBESI  65 

already  died.  But  Livingstone  was  physician  and 
had  his  remedies,  and  Mrs.  Livingstone  acted  as 
nurse,  so  soon  matters  were  mended  and  in  a  better 
way.  Livingstone  set  his  face  northward  again.  In- 
deed, all  seemed  well  and  more  than  well,  for  not 
only  had  the  rest  done  wonders  for  people  and  cattle, 
but  Livingstone  had  interviewed  Lechulatebe,  the 
chief,  with  an  ugly  disposition,  and  the  native  had 
fallen  in  love  with  Livingstone's  gun.  Now  that 
weapon  was  the  apple  of  the  explorer's  eye,  being  one 
of  the  best  of  its  kind,  and  also  a  gift  from  his  friend. 
Lieutenant  Arkwright.  Still,  all  things  had  to  give 
way  to  the  one  great  thing,  so  when  Lechulatebe 
asked  for  the  gun,  and  promised,  in  return  for  it,  to 
guide  the  party  to  Sebituane,  Livingstone  parted 
with  his  pet  weapon. 

Then  came  the  unexpected  calamity,  and  Living- 
stone's castle  became  as  a  heap  of  sand.  For  "next 
morning  .  .  .  our  little  boy  and  girl  were  seized 
with  fever.  On  the  day  following,  all  our  servants 
were  down  with  the  same  complaint.  .  .  .  We 
started  for  the  pure  air  of  the  desert." 

So  ended  the  second  attempt,  an  almost  unforget- 
table disappointment,  but  one  which  left  Livingstone 
cheerful  and  undaunted  as  ever.  Short  handed,  and 
hampered  with  sick  people,  with  double  duty  de- 
volving upon  the  explorer  and  upon  his  wife,  they 
started  back,  after  leaving  the  gun  with  Lechulatebe, 
for  Livingstone  had  not  the  heart  to  grieve  or  disap- 
point the  native.  But  the  chief  promised  that  he 
would  be  there  to  guide  Livingstone  on  another  day. 


66 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


and  said  that  he  would  also  see  to  it  that  the  news  of 
Livingstone's  attempt  was  carried  to  Sebituane. 
Those  promises  he  kept.  And  the  far-away  chief, 
Sebituane,  showed  his  appreciation  by  sending  pres- 
ents both  to  those  who  had  helped  the  white  man, 
and  to  those  through  whose  territory  he  must  pass 
who  might  be  disposed  to  hinder  him.  Thus  to 
Sechele  went  thirteen  black  cows,  to  Lechulatebe 
thirteen  brown  cows,  and  to  Sekomi,  the  unfriendly 
chief  who  stood  in  Livingstone's  way,  thirteen  white 
cows.  To  Livingstone  he  sent  a  detachment  of  men 
to  help  in  any  way  that  they  could,  and  these  reached 
Kolobeng  soon  after  the  Livingstone  party  did. 
There  was  no  mistaking  Sebituane's  earnestness. 

But  there  was  to  be  no  traveling  just  then.  Mary 
Livingstone  had  given  birth  to  a  daughter  who  lived 
only  six  weeks,  and  when  the  mother  could  travel, 
they  went  south  to  her  father's  mission,  at  Kuruman, 
so  that  she  might  rest  awhile  after  all  that  toil  and 
adventure,  in  surroundings  more  ordered  than  she 
had  known  for  many  years.  It  is  a  sad  loss  that 
there  are  no  existing  documents  in  the  form  of  letters 
or  journals  by  which  the  thoughts  and  opinions  and 
experiences  of  Mary  Livingstone  might  be  known. 
One  imagines  her  going  on  and  on,  doing  dull  and 
prosaic  things,  looking  for  the  day  of  entry  upon  an 
untroubled  life  after  all  those  sorrows.  With  more 
than  a  half-fearful  heart,  she  must  have  heard 
mention  of  a  third  journey  across  that  desert;  and 
with  her  loyalty  and  fidelity  she  must  have  desper- 
ately attempted  to  appear  cheerful. 


THROUGH   DESERT  TO  THE   ZAMBESI  6/ 

For  there  was  a  third,  and  this  time  a  successful 
attempt  to  reach  Sebituane.  They  started  in  April, 
1 85 1,  the  hunter  Oswell  with  them.  In  the  desert 
there  had  been  grim  days  before,  but  this  time  they 
were  grimmer.  Often  they  did  not  find  the  chain  of 
water  pools  they  expected  to  find,  and,  to  make  mat- 
ters more  serious,  someone  wasted  the  water  supply 
in  the  wagons.  So  for  four  days  they  suffered,  the 
children  especially.  We  get  a  vivid  view  of  Living- 
stone's fine  perception  and  emotion  in  one  place 
where  he  writes:  "The  idea  of  [the  children]  perishing 
before  our  eyes  was  terrible.  It  would  have  been  a 
relief  to  me  to  have  been  reproached  with  being  the 
entire  cause  of  the  catastrophe;  but  not  one  syllable 
of  upbraiding  was  uttered  by  the  mother,  though  the 
tearful  eye  told  the  agony  within." 

And  there  you  have  Mary  Livingstone,  the  woman 
soUcitous  of  others,  guarding  her  actions  and  guard- 
ing her  speech  to  avoid  casting  the  shadow  of  grief 
upon  anyone.  You  have  Livingstone,  too,  passing 
over  his  own  physical  discomfort,  doing  all  that  he 
could  do  to  minimize  misery;  full  of  intense  sympathy 
for  others  at  all  times.  One  suspects  him  of  many 
sacrifices  in  times  of  stress,  for  this  man  had  the  gal- 
lant spirit  of  a  Sir  Philip  Sidney.  With  stout  cheer- 
fulness, he  endured  what  most  men  would  quail  to 
think  of,  and  never  dare  to  attempt. 

One  night  their  Bushman  guide  deserted  them  and 
went  on  his  way  alone  to  the  water  holes  he  expected 
to  find,  leaving  the  caravan  to  shift  as  best  it  could 
or  perish.    After  harrowing  hours,  they  found  the 


68 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


man  seated  comfortably  by  the  water  hole,  acting  as 
if  he  had  done  the  right  and  proper  thing  in  leaving 
them.  There  was  an  air  about  him  as  of  vanished 
concern,  as  though,  but  for  his  watchful  vigilance,  the 
party  might  have  passed  the  place.  When  he  saw 
the  train,  "he  walked  up  boldly  and  commanded  our 
cavalcade  to  stop,  and  to  bring  forth  fire  and  tobacco, 
while  he  coolly  sat  down  and  smoked  his  pipe,"  runs 
Livingstone's  entry  in  the  Journal.  "It  was  such  an 
inimitable  way  of  showing  off,  that  we  all  stopped  to 
admire  the  acting,  and,  though  he  had  previously 
left  us  in  the  lurch,  we  all  liked  Shobo,  a  fine  specimen 
of  that  wonderful  people,  the  Bushmen."  There 
again  Livingstone  reveals  himself  unconsciously, 
big-hearted  and  big-minded,  ready  and  willing  at  all 
times  to  look  at  the  humorous  aspect  of  things;  eager 
to  see  a  bright  side  and  to  find  delight  in  any  situ- 
ation; impulsively  forgiving  the  man  with  a  child's 
mind,  although  the  fellow  had  come  within  an  ace 
of  bringing  the  whole  expedition  to  ruin. 

And  what  is"the  Livingstone  attitude  in  this  in- 
stance but  a  living  of  the  religion  that  he  held  to  be 
life?  What  is  that  but  a  practical  instance  of  the 
injunction  to  forgive  the  trespasser.?  Not  often,  I 
suspect,  is  man  high  enough  philosopher  to  carry  on 
in  that  fashion. 

In  some  mysterious  way  in  which  news  flies  from 
mind  to  mind  in  the  solitudes,  the  chief  Sebituane 
had  heard  of  the  coming  of  the  third  expedition. 
With  fine  hospitality,  he  had  marched  more  than 
a  hundred  miles  to  meet  the  white  men,  and  it  must 


THROUGH   DESERT  TO  THE   ZAMBESI  69 

have  given  Livingstone  infinite  pleasure  to  learn  of 
that  courtesy.  For  it  was  an  act  of  courtesy,  and 
not  of  mere  curiosity.  The  Zulu  ruler  found  a  camp- 
ing place,  then  sent  forward  messengers  or  heralds, 
who  paddled  twenty  miles  up  stream  to  a  point  at 
which  they  knew  Livingstone  must  touch.  When  the 
guards  arrived,  they  set  to  work  to  prepare  a  place 
for  the  white  men's  camp,  and,  before  the  Livingstone 
party  arrived,  all  was  snug  and  in  good  order. 
After  the  arrival,  the  women  and  children  and  camp 
servants  were  made  comfortable,  and  Livingstone  and 
1^  Oswell  were  led  to  the  canoes.  Then  there  was  an 
easy  journey  down  to  the  island  where  Sebituane 
waited. 

The  account  of  the  meeting  evokes  a  picture  like 
one  from  Conrad's  pen — the  chief  with  his  warriors 
about  him,  the  chorus-singing  which  continued  for  a 
little  time  after  the  white  party  had  arrived,  the 
cordiality  of  the  chief  in  welcoming,  his  prediction 
that  the  white  men's  cattle  would  surely  die  as  they 
without  doubt  had  been  bitten  by  the  tsetse  fly,  his 
lordly  promise  that  they  need  not  fear,  because  he 
would  give  them  all  the  cattle  they  needed,  his 
magnificence  when  he  arose  and  stretched  forth  his 
hand  telling  them  that  any  lands  they  chose  were 
theirs  to  settle  on.  You  imagine  him  standing  with  ^ 
raised  hands  and  eyes  at  the  end  of  his  speech,  a 
powerful  personality  who  had  done  tremendous 
things,  and  who  expected  to  do  things  more  tremen- 
dous still.  And,  the  welcoming  ceremony  finished, 
there  was  a  feast  with  beef,  and  beer,  and  fruits,  and 


70 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


milk,  and  honey.  That  being  at  an  end,  the  two 
white  men  were  led  to  their  huts,  which  were  set  a 
Httle  apart,  and  furnished  with  mats  and  beds  of 
"prepared  skins  of  oxen,  soft  as  cloth."  When  they 
had  lain  down  they  heard  a  command  by  which  the 
Zulus  were  bidden  to  preserve  "great  silence"  so  that 
the  tired  travelers  might  rest  undisturbed.  But 
mark  the  eagerness  of  the  chief.  Long  before  dawn, 
there  was  Sebituane  waiting  by  the  white  men's  fire, 
eager  to  tell  the  story  of  his  life,  to  set  forth  his  hopes 
and  his  plans,  to  do  what  he  could  to  bind  himself  to 
his  new  friends  and  to  secure  their  comfort  in  every 
way. 

Livingstone  knew  and  understood  and  liked  his 
Zulus  tremendously.  "They  are  tall,  muscular,  and 
well  made,"  he  says.  "They  are  shrewd,  energetic, 
and  brave;  altogether  they  merit  the  character  given 
them  by  military  authorities  of  being  magnificent 
savages.  Their  splendid  physical  development  and 
form  of  skull  show  that,  but  for  the  black  skin  and 
woolly  hair,  they  would  take  rank  among  the  fore- 
most Europeans."  He  had  good  words,  too,  for  their 
neighbors,  the  Bushmen,  as  "a  wonderful  people 
.  .  .  always  merry  and  laughing,  never  telling 
lies." 

As  for  Sebituane,  he  sets  him  down  as  "the  greatest 
man  in  all  that  country."  He  further  describes  him 
as  "about  forty-five  years  of  age;  of  a  tall  and  wiry 
form,  an  olive  or  coffee  and  milk  color,  and  slightly 
bald;  in  manner  cool  and  collected,  and  more  frank 


THROUGH   DESERT  TO  THE   ZAMBESI  Jl 

in  his  answers  than  any  other  chief  I  have  ever  met. 
He  was  the  greatest  warrior  ever  heard  of  beyond  the 
colony;  for,  unlike  Mosilikatse,  Dingaan,  and  others, 
he  always  led  his  men  into  battle  himself.  When  he 
saw  the  enemy,  he  felt  the  edge  of  his  battle-ax,  and 
said,  'Aha!  It  is  sharp,  and  whoever  turns  his  back 
on  the  enemy  will  feel  its  edges.'  So  fleet  of  foot 
was  he,  that  all  his  people  knew  there  was  no  escape 
for  the  coward,  as  any  such  would  be  cut  down  with- 
out mercy.  In  some  instances  of  skulking  he  allowed 
the  individual  to  return  home;  then  calling  him,  he 
would  say,  'You  prefer  dying  at  home  to  dying  in  the 
field,  do  you?  Then  you  shall  have  your  desire.' 
This  was  the  signal  for  his  instant  execution."  So 
there  was  the  warrior  formalizing  discipline  in  his 
way,  a  primitive  executive  giving  his  object  lessons 
as  zestfully  as  Assir-Natsir  himself.  And  although 
definiteness  of  punishment  was  one  of  his  weapons, 
like  a  true  executive  he  possessed  the  sympathetic 
personal  touch.  He  valued  the  bonds  of  good  will 
and  fellowship,  and  those  made  for  loyalty  among  his 
followers.  .    .    when  poor  men  came  to  sell 

.  .  .  no  matter  how  ungainly  they  might  be,  he 
soon  knew  them  all,"  writes  Livingstone.  "A  com- 
pany of  these  indigent  strangers  sitting  far  apart 
from  the  Makololo  gentlemen  around  the  chief  would 
be  surprised  to  see  him  come  alone  to  them,  and, 
sitting  down,  inquire  if  they  were  hungry.  He  would 
order  an  attendant  to  bring  meal,  milk,  and  honey; 
and,  mixing  them  in  their  sight,  in  order  to  remove 


72 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


any  suspicion  from  their  minds,  make  them  feast, 
perhaps  for  the  first  time  in  their  Hves,  on  a  lordly 
dish." 

Thus  then  Sebituane,  a  sort  of  primitive  Arthur,  or 
Charlemagne;  a  master  of  men  who  had  made  him- 
self lord  of  a  large  part  of  Central  Africa;  a  dark- 
skinned  gentleman,  at  ease  alike  with  his  superiors, 
his  equals,  his  inferiors.  He  was,  as  a  gentleman 
should  be,  superior  without  ostentation,  yet  with 
something  of  the  grand  manner  about  him.  He  knew 
how  to  give  without  arrogance  and  how  to  receive 
with  dignity.  Of  him  the  natives  said:  "He  has^a 
heart.  He  is  wise "  and  they  said  the  same  of 
Livingstone. 

So  knight  had  met  knight,  and  the  two  were  to 
devise  some  sort  of  arrangement  by  which  Living- 
stone could  achieve  his  ambitions.  For  hours  they 
discussed  things,  seated  on  a  breezy  hilltop  from 
which  they  could  see  far  horizons,  and  all  was  very 
pleasant  and  hopeful.  When,  on  the  second  day 
after  their  meeting,  Livingstone  presented  his  wife 
and  children,  the  gallant  chief  took  the  act  as  one  of 
great  courtesy,  and  said  so.  So  Livingstone  had 
visions  of  a  friendship  welded  to  duration,  of  a  grow- 
ing social  organization,  of  himself  as  a  true  pastor  of 
souls,  of  a  united  people  with  common  interests  and 
customs  and  traditions,  of  economic  resources  devel- 
oped and  rightly  used,  of  walls  of  caste  and  color 
taken  down.  He  dreamed  of  a  compact  httle  realm, 
quiet  and  happy  because  free  from  aggression  and 
despotism.    He  saw  an  untainted,  unspoiled,  physi- 


THROUGH   DESERT   TO  THE   ZAMBESI  73 

cally  perfect  stock  entering  into  a  goodly  heritage. 
He  saw  a  land  of  light,  and  a  finer  light  in  that  light. 
We  imagine  the  two  men  dreaming  dreams  of  a  new 
civilization,  planning  perfect  order  and  a  widespread 
human  happiness,  visioning  a  world  rich  in  the  joy 
of  true  fellowship.  For  both  were  men  with  the 
hearts  of  boys,  both  lived  in  a  heaven  of  enthusiasm, 
and  the  shadow  of  disillusionment  was  not  on  them. 

Then,  of  a  sudden,  all  that  promising  state  of 
affairs  came  crashing.  Sebituane  fell  ill,  and  Living- 
stone diagnosed  the  trouble  as  inflammation  of  the 
lungs,  "I  saw  his  danger,"  he  writes,  "but,  being  a 
stranger,  feared  to  treat  him  medically,  lest  in  the 
event  of  death  I  should  be  blamed  by  his  people." 
The  native  medicine  men  agreed  that  the  abstention 
was  wise  and  told  the  missionary-explorer  that  the 
trouble  came  from  an  old  spear  wound  received  in 
some  mighty  battle. 

Livingstone  sat  by  the  chief's  bedside,  night  and 
day,  and,  just  before  the  end,  Httle  Robert  Living- 
stone, quite  unconscious  of  anything's  being  wrong, 
wandered  into  the  hut.  Before  Livingstone  could 
wave  the  boy  away,  the  dying  chief  saw  him  and  rose 
up  a  Httle,  supporting  himself  on  his  elbow.  Calling 
a  servant,  he  said,  "Take  Robert  to  Maunku  [one  of 
his  wives],  and  tell  her  to  give  him  some  milk."  That 
episode  was  a  piece  of  chivalry  that  affected  Living- 
stone deeply.  Shortly  after  it,  Sebituane  died.  "He 
was  decidedly  the  best  specimen  of  a  native  chief  I 
ever  met.  I  was  never  so  much  grieved  at  the  loss 
of  a  black  man,"  he  writes. 


74 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


The  chiefs  daughter,  Mamochisane,  was  all  for 
carrying  out  the  designs  of  her  father.  So,  leaving 
their  people  in  camp,  Livingstone  and  Oswell  ex- 
plored the  land  for  a  hundred  and  thirty  miles  to  the 
northeast  in  search  of  a  suitable  locaHty  for  a  mission- 
ary settlement. 

Then,  "in  the  end  of  June,  1851,  we  were  rewarded 
by  the  discovery  of  the  Zambesi,  in  the  center  of 
the  continent.  .  .  .  We  saw  it  at  the  end  of  the 
dry  season,  at  a  time  when  the  river  is  about  its  low- 
est, and  yet  there  was  a  breadth  of  from  three  hun- 
dred to  six  hundred  yards  of  deep,  flowing  water. 
Mr.  Oswell  said  that  he  had  never  seen  such  a  fine 
river,  even  in  India.  At  the  period  of  its  annual 
inundation,  it  rises  fully  twenty  feet  in  perpendicular 
height,  and  floods  lands  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  ad- 
jacent to  its  banks." 

Mark  the  modesty  of  the  man.  In  that  unassum- 
ing way  does  he  tell  of  the  extraordinary  discovery. 
There  is  no  talk  heroic,  no  self-laudation,  no  pompous 
flourishing  and  planting  of  standards  in  the  fashion 
attributed  to  a  Balboa.  I  say  attributed,  because 
if  Balboa  or  any  other  explorer  ever  descended  to  the 
theatrical,  my  experience  is  at  fault.  For  in  times 
of  stress  men  are  rarely  talkative.  "We  were  re- 
warded," he  says,  quite  unaffectedly.  That  rings 
true,  for  it  tells  of  a  feeling  of  gratitude  that  all  men 
who  have  gone  far  afield  and  seen  new  things  have 
felt.  Nor  was  there  any  renaming  of  the  river  for 
himself  or  for  anyone  else.  There  was  not  even  a 
"we  discovered,"  for  to  Livingstone's  thinking  that 


THROUGH   DESERT  TO  THE   ZAMBESI  75 

would  have  savored  of  a  kind  of  arrogance.  He 
knew  that  what  they  had  found  was  too  great  for 
that. 

You  imagine  the  sudden  coming  upon  the  river. 
One  moment  they  were  on  the  scrub  land,  cracked 
with  the  heat,  dotted  with  thorn  bushes,  formidable 
in  its  desolation.  They  had  passed  water-courses 
which  had  become  exhausted.  Often,  the  only  signs 
of  life  had  been  scorpions,  lizards,  vipers,  and  ants. 
Sometimes  there  had  been  hours  when  the  intense 
radiation  of  the  white  and  red  surfaces  had  dazzled 
them.  Then,  suddenly,  a  vast  green  secret  place 
of  the  earth,  bathed  in  primal  silence  and  sunHght, 
teeming  with  hfe  conceived  of  the  river. 

It  is  quite  reasonable  to  suppose  that  against  that 
vast  background  of  a  mighty  river  and  an  untrodden 
continent,  the  thoughtful  Oswell  and  the  fiery- 
hearted  Livingstone  talked  long  and  sincerely,  as 
man  to  man,  about  human  and  pertinent  things. 
For  it  seems  very  Hkely  that  Oswell  would  be  the  man 
to  point  out  that  all  those  absorbing  businesses  that 
engaged  Livingstone  were  one  thing — the  future  and 
the  comfort  of  his  wife  and  children  quite  another. 
At  any  rate,  on  the  banks  of  the  Zambesi,  Livingstone 
considered  things,  and  at  the  end,  as  result  of  that 
consideration,  decided  to  send  his  family  to  England, 
and  then  to  come  back  from  the  parting  and  go  on 
alone.  For  him  fierce  activity,  for  them  placid 
peace.  Oswell  suggested  that  Livingstone  should 
go  with  his  family,  returning  to  Africa  after  a  rest, 
but  Livingstone  thought  that  it  was  his  duty  "to 


76 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


search  for  a  healthy  district  that  might  prove  a  center 
of  civilization,  and  open  up  the  interior  by  a  path  to 
either  the  east  or  west  coast."  So,  by  the  Zambesi, 
David  Livingstone  dreamed  the  dream  that  Cecil 
Rhodes  dreamed,  years  later;  and  dreaming,  his  hopes 
quickened. 

Southward  they  turned,  headed  for  Capetown, 
knowing  that  their  course  would  be  through  a  war- 
torn  land.  For  while  Livingstone  had  his  dream, 
while  he  had  given  his  life  to  a  cause,  there  were  those 
of  his  own  country  who  seemed  to  be  doing  things 
to  crush  out  his  high  hopes  and  discount  the  best 
promise.  Military  and  commercial  imperialism  were 
marching  hand  in  hand  to  conquer  and  destroy. 
While  he  walked  with  clean  hands  and  a  fair  con- 
science, carrying  his  message  of  Christianity  and 
mercy  and  gentleness,  his  own  people  seemed  to  be 
acting  as  mere  buccaneers,  burning,  and  shooting, 
and  destroying.  Small  wonder  that  the  natives  were 
mystified,  hearing  him  preach  peace  but  seeing  others 
of  his  race  and  color  moved  by  the  lust  of  conquest, 
by  trade  gains,  by  lands  to  be  won  by  fighting  and 
profits  to  be  snatched  by  fraud.  Turning  to  a 
history  dealing  with  the  time,  place,  and  occasion, 
I  find  this:  "The  hostility  of  the  CafFres  having 
assumed  all  the  features  of  a  regular  warfare,  the 
Governor  General  Cathcart  attacked  and  defeated 
the  native  hosts,  December  20th,  1852."  But  the 
Livingstone  record  runs  thus:  "Our  route  to  Cape- 
town led  us  to  pass  through  the  center  of  the 
colony  during  the  twentieth  month  of  a  CafFre  war; 


THROUGH   DESERT  TO  THE    ZAMBESI  77 

and  if  those  who  periodically  pay  enormous  sums 
for  these  inglorious  affairs  wish  to  know  how  our 
little  unprotected  party  could  quickly  travel  through 
the  heart  of  the  colony  to  the  capital  with  as  Httle 
sense  of  danger  as  if  we  had  been  in  England,  they 
must  engage  a  Times  Special  Correspondent  for  the 
next  outbreak,  to  explain  where  the  money  goes  and 
who  have  been  benefited  by  the  blood  and  treasure 
expended."  The  passage  contains  the  only  instance 
of  Livingstone's  indulgence  in  a  mildest  of  mild 
sarcasm.  But  the  love  which  he  bore  the  people  he 
knew  so  well  might  have  justified  far  stronger  words. 
He  reiterated  his  distress  because  of  white  aggression. 
And,  this  is  important:  Livingstone,  who  took  such 
pains  to  learn  native  dialects,  knew  that  with  the  best 
of  intentions  men  of  the  same  race  and  tongue  arrive 
at  misunderstandings,  that  misunderstandings  are 
still  more  likely  to  come  about  when  men  of  different 
tongues  come  together,  though  each  strives  with 
might  and  main  to  make  himself  understood  and 
render  his  meaning  clear,  and  that,  far  too  often 
when  urgent  affairs  of  state  are  to  be  discussed, 
negotiations  and  preliminaries  are  conducted  by 
men  as  far  apart  as  the  poles,  who  only  dimly  under- 
stand each  other,  and  who  are  separated  by  chasms 
of  misunderstanding  because  of  the  inefficiency, 
prejudices,  or  wilful  distortion  of  interpreters.  Small 
wonder  then  that  at  Capetown,  because  of  his  in- 
sistence upon  the  danger  of  misunderstanding,  there 
were  some  who  frowned  upon  him  as  one  almost  a 
renegade,  others  who  sneered  at  him  as  "friend  of 


78 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


the  niggers,"  and  others  who,  regarding  him  as  a  self- 
seeker  who  used  the  Missionary  Society  as  a  tool, 
saw  fit  to  indulge  themselves  in  railing  accusations. 

Taking  inventory,  David  Livingstone  found  that 
he  had  nothing  in  the  way  of  money  to  his  credit,  had 
indeed  overdrawn  his  yearly  salary  of  $500  for  six 
months  to  come,  and  spent  the  $100  that  the  Royal 
Geographical  Society  had  awarded  him  in  token  of 
appreciation  of  the  discovery  of  Lake  Ngami.  But 
his  financial  condition  caused  him  but  httle  worry. 
All  those  years  he  counted  as  apprenticeship  for  his 
great  task.  Not  money  nor  even  an  honored  name 
counted.  Only  this:  that  he  had  a  high  and  heavenly 
thing  at  heart,  and  that  no  shrinking,  no  weakness, 
would  come  upon  him,  no  matter  how  lonely  and 
perilous  the  way. 

By  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Oswell  and  a  friend,  Mrs. 
Livingstone  and  the  children  were  enabled  to  sail 
for  England  on  April  23,  1852,  and  Livingstone,  more 
unfettered  than  he  had  ever  been,  was  free  to  carry 
his  message  to  mankind. 


CHAPTER  V 


LINYANTI 

A  T  THIS  point  I  cannot  resist  a  reminiscent  note 
2\,  because  it  gives  me  a  slight  link  with  Living- 
stone. Once,  during  an  hour  of  driving  rain,  I  found 
shelter  under  a  portico  in  a  Cape  Verde  village,  and 
before  I  had  stood  there  two  minutes,  another  man 
came.  He  turned  out  to  be  a  Scot,  a  wrinkled  and 
gray-haired  man,  one  of  those  wanderers  who  seem  to 
have  been  everywhere,  who  seem  to  have  set  eyes 
on  all  kinds  of  people,  especially  the  famous,  because 
of  a  Boswellian  curiosity.  We  fell  to  talking,  this 
man  and  I,  and  he  told  me  things  about  Africa,  about 
the  Zulu  War  and  Cetewayo,  about  the  Boer  War, 
about  Rangoon,  about  the  Maoris  of  New  Zealand. 
He  spoke  of  having  seen  Gordon,  and  Stanley,  and 
Kitchener,  and  many  others;  then,  when  I  named  my 
boyhood  hero  Livingstone,  it  came  out  that  he  had 
seen  him,  too,  not  in  the  jungle,  but  in  Capetown.  At 
the  time,  he  said,  he  was  trading  in  oxen,  and  sold 
to  Livingstone  three  of  the  ten  that  he  had  when  he 
started  on  his  long  journey.  "Sorry  things  they 
were,  too,  them  there  oxen,"  he  added  reflectively. 
Long  association  with  odd  characters  had  caused  his 
speech  to  lose  much  of  its  Scottish  purity.  He  went 
on  to  talk  of  other  things,  teUing  me  that  "people 

79 


8o 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


were  down  on  Livingstone,"  that  the  explorer  came 
within  an  ace  of  getting  no  oxen  at  all  because  of  his 
suspected  disloyalty;  and  he  said  so  much  tending  to 
prove  that  Livingstone  had  an  arduous  and  painful 
time  in  civilization  that  I  began  to  suspect  the  man  of 
romancing. 

Later,  I  found  that  all  he  said  was  true.  Indeed, 
the  man  had  minimized.  Livingstone  failed  to  en- 
list anyone  in  his  cause.  He  was  regarded  with 
something  more  than  doubt  because  of  his  opposition 
to  the  Zulu  War.  His  fellow  missionaries  accused 
him  of  being  unorthodox  to  the  point  of  danger. 
Whispering  tongues  poisoned  truth  to  such  an  extent 
that  he  could  not  get  hunting  arms  or  ammunition,  it 
being  said  that  he  was  in  favor  of  arming  the  natives. 
Then  there  was  a  country  postmaster  who  threatened 
him  with  a  lawsuit,  and  took  preliminary  steps,  the 
charge  being  one  of  defamation  of  character  because 
Livingstone  had  accused  him  of  overcharging.  It 
was  all  very  petty,  and,  to  avoid  vexatious  delay, 
Livingstone  compromised  the  suit  and  at  last  lum- 
bered out  of  town  in  a  rackety  wagon  drawn  by  ten 
inferior  oxen.  The  prejudice  against  him  arose,  in 
great  measure,  from  that  sermon  he  had  preached  on 
his  first  visit  to  Capetown. 

The  ox-cart  was  heavily  laden,  not  so  much 
with  things  for  his  own  use  as  with  this,  that,  and  the 
other  of  household  necessities  for  people  up  country 
to  whom  he  had  made  promises,  as  one  living  in 
lightly  settled  country,  when  going  to  town,  is  asked 
to  bring  out  this  and  that  inconsiderable  thing,  until 


L  I  N  Y  A  N  T  I 


8i 


the  aggregate  becomes  burdensome.  But  Living- 
stone was  always  quite  incapable  of  refusing  to  do  a 
favor.  With  the  wagon  went  two  Christian  Bechua- 
nas,  "than  whom  I  never  saw  better  servants  any- 
where," he  says,  and  two  Bakwain  men,  besides  a 
couple  of  native  girls  who  had  helped  Mrs.  Living- 
stone with  the  children  and  were  returning  to  Kolo- 
beng.  The  country  through  which  they  passed  was 
almost  desert  dry;  and  the  wagon,  so  old  and  inferior, 
prove  hardly  fit  for  service.  Indeed,  it  broke  down 
frequently,  and  at  Kuruman  a  delay  of  two  weeks 
for  repairs  became  necessary. 

Then,  while  Livingstone  waited,  tragedy  came 
stalking.  For  Sechele's  wife  found  her  way  there 
and  told  a  story  of  a  Boer  raid  on  the  tribe  with  which 
Livingstone  had  worked  so  long.  The  woman  and 
her  child  had  escaped  injury  or  death  by  hiding  in  a 
cleft  of  a  rock,  and  then,  when  the  trouble  ended,  had 
set  off  on  foot  with  a  native,  bearing  a  letter  from 
her  husband  to  Dr.  Moffat.  Livingstone  translated 
it,  and  recorded  it  in  his  Journal.    It  ran: 

"Friend  of  my  heart's  love,  and  of  all  the  confi- 
dence of  my  heart,  I  am  Sechele.  I  am  undone  by 
the  Boers,  who  attacked  me,  though  I  had  no  guilt 
with  them.  They  demanded  that  I  should  be  in 
their  kingdom  and  I  refused.  They  demanded  that 
I  should  prevent  the  English  and  the  Griquas  from 
passing  [northward].  I  replied.  These  are  my  friends 
and  I  can  prevent  no  one  [of  them].  They  came  on 
Saturday  and  I  besought  them  not  to  fight  on  Sun- 


82 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


day,  and  they  assented.  They  began  on  Monday 
morning  at  twiUght,  and  fired  with  all  their  might, 
and  burned  the  town  with  fire,  and  scattered  us. 
They  killed  sixty  of  my  people,  and  captured  women, 
and  children,  and  men.  And  the  mother  of  Balerill- 
ing  they  also  took  prisoner.  They  took  all  the  cattle 
and  all  the  goods  of  the  Bakwains;  and  the  house  of 
Livingstone  they  plundered,  taking  away  all  his 
goods.  The  number  of  wagons  they  had  was  eighty- 
five  and  a  cannon;  and  after  they  had  stolen  my  own 
wagon  and  that  of  Macabe,  then  the  number  of  their 
wagons  [counting  the  cannon  as  one]  was  eighty- 
eight.  All  the  goods  of  the  hunters  were  burned  in 
town;  and  of  the  Boers  were  killed  twenty-eight. 
Yes,  my  beloved  friend,  now  my  wife  goes  to  see  the 
children  and  Kobas  Hae  will  convey  her  to  you. 

"I  am  Sechele, 
"The  son  of  Mochoascle." 

So  there  was  the  ages-old  struggle,  and  Living- 
stone's heart  bled,  for  the  vengeance  of  the  Boers  had 
fallen  on  Sechele  and  his  people  because  of  the 
foundationless  report  that  the  missionary-explorer 
had  taught  these  natives  the  use  of  arms.  In- 
deed, so  busy  was  rumor  that  Livingstone  stood 
accused  of  designs  against  the  Boers  in  general, 
and  stood  regarded  as  representative  of  England's 
supposed  anti-Boer  policy.  About  the  innocent 
man  ran  a  widespread  hatred,  a  hatred  almost 
deadly.  The  Journal  says:  "Loud  vows  of  ven- 
geance were  uttered  against  my  head,  and  threats 


LIN  YANTI 


83 


of  instant  pursuit  by  a  large  party  on  horseback, 
should  I  dare  to  go  out  or  into  or  beyond  their 
country."  Such  was  the  opposition  he  found  that 
he  was  detained  for  months  at  Kuruman.  "I  could 
not  engage  a  single  servant  to  accompany  me  to  the 
north,"  he  says.  And  when  at  last  he  did  get  three 
men  to  go  with  him,  they  were  "the  worst  possible 
specimens  of  those  who  imbibe  the  vices  without  the 
virtues  of  Europeans."  A  colored  trader  named 
George  Fleming  also  went,  his  business  being  to 
establish  a  trading  post  if  possible. 

It  was  June  5,  1852,  when  they  left  Kuruman, 
northward  bound,  and  what  with  one  thing  and 
another,  the  journey  to  Linyanti  in  Makolololand 
took  almost  a  year,  for  they  arrived  there  on  May 
23>  1853- 

In  the  first  place,  they  tried  to  chart  a  course  that 
would  skirt  the  desert.  In  the  second  place,  they 
went  a  roundabout  way  because  of  the  silly  but 
dangerous  suspicion  of  the  Boers.  With  all  their 
care,  they  ran  into  the  edge  of  what  Livingstone 
calls  "a  CafFre  war  in  stage  the  second,"  a  sort  of 
guerilla  warfare  established  by  the  Boers.  The  third 
stage,  Livingstone  adds,  is  when  "both  sides  are 
equally  armed  and  afraid  of  each  other;  the  fourth 
when  the  English  take  up  a  quarrel  not  their  own, 
and  the  Boers  slip  out  of  the  fray." 

The  missionary-explorer  had  very  decided  notions 
of  his  own  about  all  that  mass  stupidity  growing  out 
of  misunderstanding,  about  the  exploitation  of  na- 
tives, and  about  those  cruel  acts  of  retaliation  so 


84 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


common  to  border  lands.  He  was  most  firmly  con- 
vinced that  epoch-making  changes  came,  not  through 
force,  but  by  the  slow  and  patient  leading  of  men 
into  ways  of  industry.  Because  of  that  he  did  not 
look  with  pessimism  upon  the  results  of  his  work  at 
Kolobeng.  He  weighed  values  against  values  and 
saw  that,  while  there  had  been  no  very  widespread 
acceptance  of  the  faith  he  preached,  yet  there  had 
been  a  very  healthy  social  activity.  And  there  was 
a  tower  of  strength  in  Sechele,  his  standard  bearer 
and  his  spokesman,  for  he  was  well  capable  of  that 
reasoned  conduct  which  eventually  might  lead  to  a 
rebirth  of  society  where  he  was.  He  at  least  did 
what  he  could  with  a  certain  efficiency.  Because 
of  his  example  and  imfluence,  new  springs  of  thought 
and  action  were  breaking  through  the  dry  crust  of 
tribal  customs. 

There  is  an  example  of  that  reasoned  conduct  in 
a  little  incident  too  significant  to  be  passed  over. 
North  of  Kuruman,  whom  should  Livingstone  meet 
but  the  old  chief  Sechele,  headed  south.  There  was 
at  once  a  camping  for  the  night  and  a  talk,  in  the 
course  of  which  it  came  out  that  Sechele  was  on  his 
way  to  England.  He  was  determined  to  lay  his 
case  before  Queen  Victoria,  perhaps  before  that 
council  of  white  chiefs  called  Parliament,  of  which 
Livingstone  had  told  him.  For,  after  the  Boer  raid, 
he  and  his  people  had  considered  matters,  and  it  had 
been  recalled  how  Livingstone  had  said  that  every 
true  and  worthy  ruler  was  a  friend  to  the  neglected 
and  gave  encouragement  to  the  weak  and  joy  to  the 


LINYANTI 


85 


suffering.  The  men  of  his  tribe  were  neglected,  were 
weak,  and  were  suffering.  They  understood  that 
Victoria,  the  Queen,  was  a  true  and  worthy  ruler,  for 
had  not  Livingstone  often  said  so.?  So  things  fitted 
together  very  well.  She  would  not  refuse  them  help 
and  strength.  Once  she  heard  the  tale,  she  would 
surely  deliver  them  from  the  hands  of  thieves  and 
despots.    That  tale  Sechele  would  tell. 

It  was  impossible  to  shake  him.  When  Living- 
stone tried  to  explain  something  of  the  difficulties  that 
stood  in  the  way,  the  native  asked,  with  entire 
simpleness:  "Will  the  Queen  not  listen  to  me  suppos- 
ing I  should  reach  her.'"' 

"I  believe  she  would  listen,  but  the  difficulty  is  to 
reach  her,"  answered  the  missionary. 

"But  I  shall  reach  her,"  said  Sechele,  and  with 
that  dismissed  the  subject,  apparently  considering 
that  there  was  no  more  to  discuss. 

So  he  went  on  his  way  assured  of  success.  At 
Bloemfontein,  the  British  soldiers  made  up  a  col- 
lection for  him  and  sent  him  on  his  way  a  happy 
man.  But  at  Capetown  he  was  lost  in  the  wilderness 
of  civilization,  and,  his  money  spent,  returned  to  his 
people,  taking  with  him  a  trick  by  means  of  which 
he  could  transform  energy  into  results.  That  is, 
he  had  stood  wide-eyed  and  wondering  when  he  saw 
the  extraordinary  sight  of  criminals  working  on  the 
public  roads,  and  he  resolved  to  treat  wrongdoers 
in  his  own  land  in  similar  fashion.  To  do  so  would,  he 
decided,  save  the  expense  of  prison  and  make  for  the 
easy  development  of  natural  resources, 


86 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


Looking  through  the  Journal  pages  so  crowded 
with  information  received  and  things  noted,  during 
the  journey  from  Kuruman  to  Makolololand,  it  is 
difficult  to  repress  a  desire,  because  of  their  buried 
treasures,  to  cross-index  them.  For  Livingstone 
was  like  Darwin  in  the  keenness  of  his  observation. 
He  wanted  to  obtain  a  true  knowledge  of  facts,  and 
those  facts  he  felt  bound  to  organize  into  relation 
with  life.  He  set  down  what  he  saw,  adding  or 
eliminating  or  correcting  as  new  information  pre- 
sented itself,  or  as  subsequent  investigations  modified 
what  went  before.  He  was  not  satisfied  to  know 
that  the  bite  of  the  tsetse  fly  resulted  in  death  to 
certain  animals:  he  had  to  make  an  autopsy.  More, 
he  experimented  upon  himself.  When  he  heard  of  a 
curious  plant  named  ngotuane,  of  which  it  was  said 
that  an  infusion  of  its  flowers  made  a  poison  which 
was  quite  harmless  when  drunk  mixed  with  vinegar, 
and  for  which  vinegar  was  a  sure  antidote,  he  re- 
gretted his  "want  of  opportunity  for  investigating 
this  remarkable  and  yet  controllable  agent  on  the 
nervous  system,"  and,  with  opportunity,  would 
certainly  have  proved  poison  and  antidote.  He  eats 
locusts  and  finds  them  to  be  not  unpleasant.  He 
looks  at  a  flowering  vine  and  remembers  a  Rhenish 
missionary  he  once  met  on  the  frontier,  "whose 
children  had  never  seen  flowers  though  they  were 
old  enough  to  talk  about  them."  He  speculates  upon 
the  tsetse  fly  as  being  the  probable  cause  operating 
to  prevent  the  spread  of  the  horse  over  Africa  as  the 
horse  had  spread  in  a  couple  of  centuries  over  all 


LINYANTI 


87 


South  America,  after  its  introduction  in  the  River 
Plate  country  by  the  Spaniards.  He  compares  the 
conduct  of  savages  in  church  with  that  of  the  Eng- 
lish at  worship  in  Pepys's  day,  to  the  detriment  of  the 
latter.  He  gives  vivid  pictures  of  slave-trade 
horrors,  of  Boer  cruelties,  of  the  scenery  and  charac- 
ter of  the  country.  That  sturdy  independence  of 
his  makes  him  record  his  determination  to  fight  for 
the  establishment  of  mission  stations  to  be  "self- 
supporting,  rich  and  flourishing  as  pioneers  of  civil- 
ization and  agriculture,"  and  not  "mere  pauper  es- 
tablishments," as,  in  his  opinion,  so  many  missions 
were.  In  the  fullness  of  his  fairness  and  his  practi- 
cal knowledge  he  comes  out  with  this:  "Christians 
have  never  yet  dealt  fairly  by  the  heathen  and  been 
disappointed."  He  astonishes  as  much  as  does  Marco 
Polo  sometimes,  as  when,  for  instance,  he  declares 
chat,  long  before  the  Bakwains  had  intercourse  with 
missionaries,  they  had  practiced  inoculation  against 
smallpox,  in  some  cases  employing  "the  matter  of  the 
smallpox  itself,"  in  others  inoculating  "in  the  fore- 
head with  some  animal  deposit."  He  notices,  as  so 
many  ethnologists  have,  that  the  unspoiled  native  is 
almost  free  from  consumption,  scrofula,  insanity, 
hydrocephalus,  cancer,  cholera — but  on  coming  into 
contact  with  whites,  the  mixed  bloods  are  subject  to 
many  diseases  and  fall  easy  victims  to  them.  On 
occasion,  as  did  Sven  Hedin,  and  Captain  Cook, 
Livingstone  permitted  native  doctors  to  try  their 
arts  upon  him,  for  he  refused  to  hold  that  as  a  white 
man  he  stood  at  the  apex  of  all  human  knowledge. 


88 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


There  are  several  notable  passages  indicative  of 
Livingstone's  healthy  refusal  to  see  with  the  eyes  of 
others,  or  to  subjugate  his  own  knowledge  and  ob- 
servation to  conventional  ideas.  I  have  quoted  one 
passage  on  the  lion  in  which  he  admits  its  strength, 
but  not  its  vaunted  nobility.  The  world  had  ac- 
cepted the  beast  and  set  it  on  a  pedestal  as  emble- 
matic of  the  highest,  but  Livingstone  saw  and  knew, 
and  for  him  it  was  no  heaven-scaling  monster.  He 
would  not  concede  as  much  as  a  "majestic  roar"  to 
it.  "Majestic  twaddle  originating  in  the  minds  of 
the  sentimentalist,"  he  declared.  True,  the  roar  may 
"inspire  fear  if  you  hear  it  in  combination  with  the 
tremendously  loud  thunder  of  that  country,  on  a 
night  so  pitchy  dark  that  every  flash  of  the  intensely 
vivid  lightning  leaves  you  with  the  impression  of 
stone-blindness,  while  the  rain  pours  down  so  fast 
that  your  fire  goes  out,  leaving  you  without  pro- 
tection. .  .  .  But  when  you  are  in  a  comfortable 
house  or  wagon,  the  case  is  very  different,  and  you 
hear  the  roar  of  the  lion  without  any  awe  or  alarm. 
The  silly  ostrich  makes  a  noise  as  loud,  yet  he  never 
was  feared  by  man.  .  .  .  On  my  mentioning  this 
fact  some  years  ago,  the  assertion  was  doubted,  so  I 
have  been  very  careful  ever  since  to  inquire  the 
opinion  of  Europeans,  who  have  heard  both,  if  they 
could  detect  any  difference  between  the  roar  of  the 
Hon  and  that  of  an  ostrich;  the  invariable  answer 
was  that  they  could  not  when  the  animal  was  at  any 
distance.  .  .  .  The  natives  assert  that  they  can 
detect  a  variation  between  the  commencement  of  the 


LIN  YANTI 


89 


noise  of  each.  .  .  .  To  this  day  I  can  distinguish 
between  them  with  certainty  only  by  knowing  that 
the  ostrich  roars  by  day  and  the  Hon  by  night.  .  . 

That  kind  of  iconoclasm  takes  courage,  for  the 
world  is  agog  for  tales  of  wonder  from  the  traveler, 
and  always  has  been.  For  the  real  shock,  the  shock  % 
of  truth,  is  all  the  other  way,  and  rather  toward  an 
acceptance  of  the  ordinary  and  not  the  extraordinary. 
So  Columbus  astonished  and  disappointed  people 
with  his  tale — not  one  of  men  whose  heads  grew 
underneath  their  shoulders,  or  of  anthropophagi  who 
had  stands  for  the  sale  of  joints  of  human  flesh,  but 
of  "a  very  loving  race,  and  without  covetousness 
.  .  .  There  is  not  a  better  country  nor  a  better 
people  in  the  world  than  these.  They  love  their 
neighbors  as  they  do  themselves,  and  their  language 
is  the  smoothest  and  sweetest  in  the  world,  being 
always  uttered  with  smiles."  In  much  the  same 
spirit  of  truth,  Darwin  tells  the  would-be  world 
traveler  that  "he  may  feel  assured  that  he  will  meet 
with  no  difficulties  or  dangers,  excepting  in  rare 
cases,  nearly  so  bad  as  he  beforehand  anticipates," 
and  that  he  will  discover  "how  many  truly  kind- 
hearted  people  there  are,  with  whom  he  never  before 
had,  or  ever  again  will  have  any  further  communi- 
cation, who  yet  are  ready  to  offer  him  the  most  dis- 
interested assistance."  So  also  have  those  who  know 
had  much  ado  to  make  it  clear  that  in  South  America 
men  pooh-pooh  tales,  told  by  armchair  voyagers,  in 
which  the  puma  looms  large  as  a  dangerous  beast — 
that  in  shark-infested  waters  natives  will  dive  for  a 


90 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


coin — that  in  Canada  there  is  no  widespread  terror  of 
timber  wolves — that  condors  do  not  carry  off  chil- 
dren— that  rattlesnakes  do  not  leap  on  horsemen — 
that  the  porcupine  does  not  shoot  its  quills — that 
tarantulas  are  not  deadly  poisonous — that  birds  do 
not  fall  dead  when  they  fly  over  the  upas  tree — that 
the  toad  does  not  spit  poison;  and  much  more  of  the 
same  kind.  For  the  world  of  fiction  and  tradition  and 
,  superstition  is  vastly  more  terrible  than  the  world  of 
fact.  And  Livingstone  was  all  for  truth  and  the 
setting  down  of  things  as  they  were. 

There  are  passages  and  pages  describing  the 
country  through  which  he  passed  in  such  a  way  that, 
reading,  you  say,  "It  is  hke  a  garden."  You  picture 
the  creaking  wagon  making  its  way  across  plains  of 
luxuriant  grass,  hke  a  ship  sailing  into  uncharted 
seas,  all  smooth  ahead  except  for  the  faint  ripphng 
caused  by  the  hght  wind.  There  were  days  and  days 
of  that,  and  Livingstone  insisted  upon  calling  it  the 
gypsy  life,  and  was  happy  in  the  atmosphere  of  holi- 
day. Morning  clouds  gave  cooling  rain,  noon  was 
golden,  and  the  night  camp  took  on  an  air  of  homely 
comfort. 

Of  course,  there  are  reminiscences  of  suflFering,  too. 
Lightly  he  sketches  days  as  they  neared  Linyanti 
when  they  suffered  pain  and  exhaustion.  They  came 
to  a  thickly  wooded  tract  where  the  foliage  was  so 
dense  that  they  moved  in  a  green-gray  gloom.  There 
was  marsh  land  through  which  the  wagon  could 
hardly  be  pulled,  and  where  there  was  not  a  breath 
of  moving  air.    There  was  one  time  when,  for  four 


LINYANTI 


91 


hours,  everyone  labored  breast-deep  in  water.  Once 
a  wagon  pole  broke,  and  there  was  no  timber  at  hand 
with  which  to  repair  it,  for  the  trees  in  that  place  were 
soft  and  spongy,  so  that  at  an  ax  stroke,  the  ax  head 
buried  itself  into  the  wood  and  could  not  be  with- 
drawn. Sometimes  they  were  in  places  where  the 
serrated  grass  cut  like  a  razor,  and  the  men  bled  from 
a  dozen  painful  wounds.  At  other  times,  for  immense 
distances  they  pushed  on  day  and  night  through 
country  where  dead  water  reached  to  the  knee. 
Men  and  animals  stumbled  into  deep  and  filthy  mud- 
holes  which  were  elephant  wallows.  And  always 
there  were  mosquitoes  to  make  sleepless  nights  after 
torturing  days.  That  insect  world  was  maddeningly 
audible,  maddeningly  active,  maddeningly  vicious. 
There  were  water  snakes,  and  curious  birds  which 
jerked  and  wriggled;  sometimes  they  heard  "human- 
like voices  and  unearthly  sounds."  Once,  at  night, 
there  was  a  hair-raising  mystery  when  "something 
came  near  us,  making  a  splashing  like  that  of  a 
canoe  or  hippopotamus."  What  it  was  they  never 
found  out;  but  the  noise  continued  without  inter- 
mission for  an  hour,  although  they  shouted  and  dis- 
charged their  guns. 

A  sort  of  incredulity  fills  one  when  trying  to  im- 
agine all  that  torment  in  the  swamp  lands,  with  the 
leader  of  the  expedition  treating  it  with  a  lightness 
[  that  is  almost  unconcern.    He  could  not,  would  not 
[   if  he  could,  take  anything  heavily  or  seriously,  if  so 
j   to  take  it  meant  discouragement.    For  that  which  * 
counted  was  the  thing  ahead.    He  had  the  work  of 


92 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


his  life  to  do,  and  immediately  before  him  was  an 
obvious  part  of  it.  The  chief,  Sebituane,  had  said, 
"Come  over  and  help  us!"  To  strive  to  that  end 
Livingstone  had  given  his  promise,  and  the  death 
of  Sebituane  he  considered  anything  but  a  release 
that  he  did  not  seek.  The  sufferings  of  his  body  were 
as  nothing,  for  he  was  full  of  the  flooding  joy  of 
fellowship  with  the  whole  world,  just  as  a  man  under 
great  stress  of  excitement  cares  nothing  for  a  wound, 
indeed  knows  nothing  of  it. 

But  at  last  there  he  was,  almost  at  the  gates  of  the 
dead  Sebituane's  capital.  The  marsh  and  the  river 
Chobe,  over  which  they  had  to  cross,  were  indis- 
tinguishable one  from  the  other,  but  there  was  a 
piece  of  rising  ground,  and  there  the  wagon  and  oxen 
were  put.  Then  came  the  making  of  a  raft,  a  primi- 
tive affair,  on  which  they  paddled  from  midday  to 
sunset.  The  record  runs:  "There  was  nothing  but  a 
wall  of  reeds  on  each  bank,  and  we  saw  every  prospect 
of  spending  a  supperless  night  on  our  float;  but  just 
as  the  short  twilight  of  these  parts  was  commencing, 
we  perceived  on  the  north  bank  the  village  of  Moremi, 
one  of  the  Makololo,  whose  acquaintance  I  had  made 
on  our  former  visit,  and  who  was  now  located  on  the 
island  Mabonta.  The  villagers  looked  as  we  may 
suppose  people  do  who  see  a  ghost,  and  in  their 
figurative  way  of  speaking,  said:  *He  had  dropped 
among  us  from  the  clouds,  yet  came  riding  on  the 
back  of  a  hippopotamus.  We  Makololo  thought  no 
one  could  cross  the  Chobe  without  our  knowledge, 
but  here  he  drops  among  us  Hke  a  bird.'" 


LIN  YANTI 


93 


Then  the  news  flew  fast.  "The  Livingstone" 
had  come.  So  there  was  activity  near  and  far 
afield,  activity  and  hopeful  apprehension.  The 
man  who  had  stimulated  their  imagination  was  with 
them,  and  henceforth  they  would  be  happy  in  life, 
with  all  the  gloom  and  strife  a  thing  of  the  past,  for 
they  took  very  literally  his  message  of  peace.  The 
glory  of  it  is  that  to  him,  too,  peace  on  earth  and 
good  will  toward  men  was  more  than  an  idle  saying. 

Down  from  Linyanti  came  the  leading  men,  and  a 
large  party  with  them.  The  air  was  full  of  laughter 
and  of  talk.  Orders  were  given  and  things  were 
done.  Soon  canoes  were  lashed  together,  and,  as  if 
it  was  a  great  festival,  off  they  pushed,  a  crowd  of 
natives  swimming  while  propeUing  the  raft;  and  so 
the  island  was  reached.  The  wagon  was  taken  to 
pieces.  Things  were  placed  on  the  improvised 
transport,  and  back  they  pushed.  All  being  landed, 
the  party  set  off  inland,  everyone  full  of  lively  inter- 
est, everything  being  done  with  zest  and  enjoyment, 
all  radiant  with  joy,  some  making  music,  some  sing- 
ing. Thirty  miles  to  the  north,  then  twenty  west- 
ward, so  as  to  avoid  marsh  and  flooded  fields,  and 
after  that  across  a  pleasant  tract  of  hill  and  valley 
the  procession  went,  and  so  they  came  to  Linyanti. 
'  And  there  the  spirit  of  joy  was  abroad,  for  "The 
Livingstone"  had  come!  Out  trooped  the  popu- 
lation of  Linyanti,  seven  thousand  strong,  many  of 
them  bearing  palm  branches,  many  dressed  in  gay 
colors,  all  of  them  in  a  state  of  pleasant  excitement 
like  children  greeting  a  much-loved  guest.    At  the 


94 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


head  of  the  party,  leaping,  and  shouting  at  the  top 
of  his  voice,  vi^ent  the  dead  Sebituane's  herald.  He 
sang  a  song  of  welcome,  a  song  of  hope.  And  loudly 
and  heartily,  in  unison,  those  with  him  chanted: 

"See  the  white  man. 
See  The  Livingstone. 
See  the  comrade  of  Sebituane. 
See  the  father  of  Sekeletu. 
He  brings  us  peace. 
He  brings  us  rest. 
We  want  rest. 
We  want  sleep. 
We  want  peace. 
Give  us  these,  0  Livingstone.** 

Then  stepped  forward  Sekeletu  the  son  of  Sebituane, 
to  greet  the  white  man,  the  friend  of  his  father. 
After  the  greetings  there  came  a  joyful  procession  of 
women,  each  one  carrying  a  pot  of  the  native  beer, 
which  is  called  boyaloa,  each  tasting  before  it  was 
offered,  by  way  of  showing  that  all  was  fair  and 
proper. 

Everywhere  were  laughter  and  good-nature  and 
amiability.  The  atmosphere  was  one  of  enjoyment 
and  delight  and  of  high  hopes.  For  there  would  be 
no  more  wars  now  that  the  man  of  peace  was  with 
them.  There  would  be  an  end  of  hideous  cruelty 
such  as  they  knew  was  inflicted  upon  other  tribes 
from  which  white  men  stole  natives  and  carried  them 
away,  as  it  was  said,  to  be  eaten.    Henceforth  there 


LI  N  Y  ANTI 


95 


would  be  wise  direction,  for  Livingstone  had  come. 
Henceforth  they  would  tread  paths  of  pleasantness, 
for  Livingstone  would  lead.  The  man  strong  as  well 
as  good  was  with  them.  So  their  joy  was  very  real. 
They  sang: 

"We  want  rest. 
We  want  sleep. 
We  want  peace." 

By  the  word  sleep,  Livingstone  tells  us,  they  indi- 
cated their  desire  to  be  free  from  war's  alarms.  They 
took  the  missionary  very  literally  as  the  bringer  of 
freedom  from  anxiety,  the  sower  of  a  more  wide- 
spread human  happiness,  the  builder  of  a  very  con- 
crete faith.  To  be  sure  there  was  the  minghng  of 
superstition  with  fact,  for  they  had  heard  something 
of  "the  white  man's  pot,"  by  which  they  had  in  mind 
cannon,  and  "white  men  had  a  pot  in  their  towns, 
which  would  burn  up  any  attacking  party."  So 
there  was  a  jumbled  mixture  of  hopes  and  beliefs  and 
expectations,  for  there  are  different  planes  of  intelli- 
gence among  primitive  men  as  there  are  among 
civiUzed.  Some  regarded  Livingstone  as  the  wielder 
of  supernatural  forces  able  to  weave  invisible  chains 
of  protection.  Some  looked  on  him  as  a  warrior  who 
would  overcome  enemies  by  force,  with  strange 
weapons.  Some  saw  him  as  the  maker  of  a  paradise. 
Others,  in  a  minority,  understood. 

Sebituane's  son,  a  young  man  of  eighteen  years, 
ruled  in  his  father's  place.    His  name  was  Sekeletu. 


96 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


Sebituane's  daughter,  Mamochisane,  who  had  suc- 
ceeded to  the  government  on  the  death  of  her  father, 
had  resigned  in  her  brother's  favor,  saying,  in  a  burst 
of  true  femininity,  "I  have  been  a  chief  only  because 
my  father  wished  it.  I  always  would  have  preferred 
to  be  married  and  have  a  family  Uke  other  women. 
You,  Sekeletu,  must  be  chief^  and  build  up  your 
father's  house."  There  were  a  sweetness  and  a 
charm  about  her  which  prevented  her  taking  any 
interest  in  tribal  poHtics.  But  seated  in  the  council 
at  the  time  of  her  resignation  was  Mpepe,  a  relative 
to  the  royal  house,  one  full  of  aspirations  and  desire 
for  power,  and  with  some  claim  to  succession.  His 
supporters  were  not  numerous  enough  to  enable  him 
to  do  anything  by  force  of  arms  just  then,  but  there 
was  a  half-uncanny  suspicion,  when  he  withdrew  to 
the  neighboring  town  of  Naliele,  that  mischief  was 
brewing.  Livingstone's  arrival  coincided  with  the 
news  that  Mpepe  was  preparing  for  an  attack,  so  the 
Song  of  Peace  which  greeted  him  had  a  very  im- 
mediate significance.  But  the  explorer  made  it  very 
clear  that  he  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  tribal 
disputes. 

It  was  while  Livingstone  and  Sekeletu  were  in  a 
distant  village  that  the  explorer  met  Mpepe.  White 
man  and  monarch  were  on  a  tour  of  inspection,  with 
the  hope  of  finding  some  suitable  location  for  a 
mission  station,  a  station  that  was  to  be  a  center 
from  which  order  and  civilization  might  spread. 
With  them  went  a  considerable  train  and  because  of 
the  general  feeling  of  high  hope,  there  was  a  dis- 


LIN  YANTI 


97 


position  to  make  a  sort  of  triumphal  procession. 
Here  is  Livingstone's  vivid  picture  of  the  party: 
"We  had  the  Chobe  on  our  right,  with  its  scores  of 
miles  of  road  occupying  the  horizon  there.  It  was 
pleasant  to  look  back  on  the  long  extended  Hne  of 
our  attendants  as  it  twisted  and  bent,  according  to 
the  curves  of  the  footpath,  or  in  and  out  behind  the 
mounds,  the  ostrich  feathers  of  the  men  waving  in 
the  wind.  Some  had  the  white  ends  of  ox-tails  on 
their  heads.  Hussar  fashion,  and  others  great  bunches 
of  black  ostrich  feathers,  or  capes  made  of  lions' 
manes.  Some  wore  red  tunics,  or  various  colored 
prints  .  .  .  the  common  men  carried  burdens; 
the  gentlemen  walked  with  a  small  club  of  rhinoceros 
horn  in  their  hands  and  had  servants  to  carry  their 
shields;  while  the  Macbaka  battle-ax  men  carried 
their  own,  and  were  liable  at  any  time  to  be  sent  a 
hundred  miles  on  an  errand,  and  expected  to  run  all 
the  way."  Sekeletu  rode  an  ox,  a  feat  taught  him 
by  Livingstone,  and  some  of  his  subordinates,  trying 
to  imitate  him,  "leaped  on  the  backs  of  half-broken 
Batoka  oxen  as  they  ran,  but,  having  neither  saddles 
nor  bridles,"  constantly  fell  off.  At  villages  they 
touched,  they  were  greeted  by  women,  chanting: 

"See  the  great  lion! 
See  the  Great  Chief! 
Give  us  peace,  my  lord! 
Give  us  sleep." 

and  always  the  herald  at  the  head  of  the  traveling 
party  shouted  at  the  top  of  his  voice: 


98 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


"Here  comes  the  great  lord! 
Here  comes  the  great  Hon! 
Make  all  ready  for  him!" 

whereupon  people  came  from  the  huts  with  cala- 
bashes of  beer,  and  huge  pots  containing  "six  or  eight 
gallons"  of  thick  milk. 

On  sighting  the  village  in  which  Mpepe  lived, 
they  had  an  impression  that  something  was  wrong. 
Mpepe,  with  a  bodyguard,  suddenly  appeared,  going 
in  the  same  direction,  but  on  a  path  about  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  distant.  When  near  the  settlement,  Mpepe 
and  his  men  made  a  hasty  circuit,  and  Mpepe  came 
running  toward  Livingstone's  party,  waving  his  ax 
with  a  disagreeable  exhibition  of  what  might  be 
taken  for  hostility,  or  what  might  possibly  be  some 
peculiar  and  original  method  of  greeting.  Sekeletu 
considered  the  display  an  unfriendly  one,  and,  having 
no  mind  to  play  the  part  of  central  actor  in  tragic 
circumstances,  turned  and  fled.  His  father's  rough 
combativeness  was  not  in  him. 

What  followed  a  little  later  is  only  sketchily  told 
by  Livingstone,  doubtless  because  of  that  curious 
reluctance  of  his  to  talk  about  himself  or  his  doings, 
especially  those  in  which  he  played  a  bold  or  heroic 
part.  But  it  is  possible  to  reconstruct,  and  Living- 
stone's nearness  to  sharp  death  is  to  the  imaginative 
reader  a  cold  terror  touching  the  mind. 

He  found  Sekeletu,  and  persuaded  the  boy  king  to 
talk  matters  over  with  Mpepe,  with  a  view  to  making 
things  easier  by  smoothing  out  diflSculties.  But 


LIN  YANTI 


99 


Sekeletu  was  unwilling  to  call  a  council,  also  very 
suspicious  of  danger  because  he  had  heard  whisper- 
ings, and  hints,  and  warnings  that  Mpepe  was  danger- 
ous. "That  man  wished  to  kill  me,"  he  told  Living- 
stone. 

However,  Livingstone  had  his  way  and  led  Sekeletu 
to  the  conference  hut,  but  had  no  sooner  entered 
than  he  was  conscious  of  brooding  trouble.  For 
Mpepe's  men  were  seated  together,  all  of  them  armed, 
nor  did  they  set  aside  their  weapons  according  to 
native  custom.  Livingstone  understood  that  it  was 
a  time  for  a  brave  front,  and  took  matters  in  hand, 
motioning  Sekeletu  to  sit  at  his  right  hand  and  Mpepe 
at  his  left.  Then  followed  one  of  those  strange, 
straining  times.  Like  surly  children,  the  men  were 
taciturn.  There  was  a  tenseness,  a  feeling  that 
things  were  at  the  snapping  point.  A  slight  word 
might  release  all  the  live  current  of  someone's  ill 
humor.  Meanwhile,  unbHnking  eyes  watched  and 
watched.  Occasionally,  a  hand  stole  to  a  spear 
shaft.  Livingstone,  despairing  of  effecting  anything, 
broke  up  the  meeting  by  turning  to  Sekeletu  and 
saying  that  he  was  tired  and  wanted  to  rest  and  ask- 
ing the  boy  king  to  show  him  to  his  hut.  "Come,  I 
will  show  you,"  said  Sekeletu,  and  rose  to  his  feet  at 
the  same  moment  as  Livingstone  did. 

We  have  to  imagine  the  rest:  Mpepe,  his  eyes  sud- 
denly illuminated,  leaping  to  his  feet  and  stabbing 
at  Sekeletu — the  blow  frustrated  by  the  white  man's 
interposed  arm — the  ferocity  in  the  hearts  of  the 
warriors — the  sudden  confusion.    Then  the  white 


lOO 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


man,  cool  and  unafraid,  and  those  grown-up  children 
stricken  dumb  by  his  quiet  mastery — the  conspirators 
slipping  out  one  by  one — others  whispering  and 
pacifying  and  explaining.  I  say  we  have  to  picture 
it  for  ourselves,  because  of  the  explorer's  character- 
istic self-effacement.  "I  unconsciously  covered  Se- 
keletu's  body  with  mine,"  he  says,  "and  saved  him 
from  the  blow  of  the  would-be  assassin."  There 
you  have  the  man. 

The  end  of  Mpepe  came  swiftly  after  that.  Seke- 
letu  used  no  subterfuge,  but  took  matters  in  hand  in 
the  customary  native  way  when  usurpers  had  to  be 
dealt  with,  and  with  strange  fatalism,  or  so  it  seems 
to  us,  Mpepe  accepted  his  fate.  He  had  struck.  He 
had  missed.  Therefore  he  had  to  pay  the  penalty, 
which  was  death.  So  at  midnight,  Nokuane,  the 
emissary  of  Sekeletu,  went  to  Mpepe's  hut  where  the 
would-be  king  sat  by  the  fire  brooding.  Mpepe 
knew  that  bright  eyes  watched  him  from  the  dark. 
He  knew  that  those  upon  whom  he  had  counted 
for  support  had  left  him.  Without  saying  a  word, 
Nokuane  stood  before  the  doomed  man,  who  seemed 
to  be  gazing  at  the  fire,  unconscious  of  the  presence 
of  his  executioner.  Then  Nokuane  poured  some 
snuff  into  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  speaking  no  word, 
only  watching. 

Quietly,  almost  whispering,  Mpepe  said,  "No- 
kuane, do  you  offer  me  something.''"  and  held  out  his 
hand. 

It  was  surrender.  It  was  a  sign  of  the  acceptance 
of  his  doom.    Nokuane  gripped  his  prisoner's  wrist. 


LINYANTI 


lOI 


another  warrior  came  in  and  grasped  the  other  wrist, 
then  Mpepe  arose  and  went  out.  Others  stepped 
from  the  darkness  and  fell  into  a  double  Hne,  each 
with  his  spear,  and  the  party  moved  into  the  shadow 
of  the  jungle.  So  they  went  the  distance  of  a  mile, 
and  to  a  place  where  there  was  no  one  to  see  the 
suffering  of  the  prisoner.  Then  Mpepe  stood  a  Httle 
apart  from  the  others,  threw  aside  his  kaross,  and 
held  high  his  hands.  A  spear  was  thrown,  and  that 
was  the  end.  There  was,  from  beginning  to  end, 
no  noise,  no  outcry,  no  disturbance  or  scufRe.  "Al- 
though I  was  sleeping  within  a  few  yards  of  the  scene, 
I  knew  nothing  of  it  until  the  next  day,"  writes 
Livingstone. 

For  the  rest,  Mpepe's  followers  vanished,  the  most 
of  them  going  to  the  Barotse  country.  Judging  it 
unwise  to  go  there  while  the  excitement  might  be 
intense,  Livingstone  returned  to  Linyanti. 

—  Following  the  account  of  the  Mpepe-Sekeletu 
affair,  Livingstone  touches  upon  the  social  life  of 
the  people.  What  he  has  to  say  is  of  highest  im- 
portance, for,  contrary  to  the  common  notion  that 
pictures  the  natives  of  Central  Africa  living  in  a  kind 
of  anarchical  state,  we  get  a  conception  of  order  and 
of  rule.  We  are  persuaded  into  the  belief  of  Living- 
stone that,  in  the  social  organization  of  the  people, 
there  was  a  something  stirring  and  throbbing,  which, 
in  the  fullness  of  time,  might  have  grown  into  a 
civiHzation.  We  see  leaders  with  executive  ability 
and  a  genius  for  organization.    We  catch  glimpses  of 


\ 


I02 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


the  abandonment  of  individualism  as  an  ethical  ideal. 
We  see,  as  among  ourselves,  some  hopelessly  lazy 
and  shiftless;  others  temperate  and  industrious.  But 
most  marked  were  the  native  Ught-heartedness,  the 
readiness  to  learn  the  processes  of  husbandry,  the 
willingness  to  care  for  domestic  animals. 

We  have  Livingstone's  word  for  it  that,  although 
the  native  system  of  government  was  such  that 
Europeans  could  not,  and  were  not  in  a  position  to 
understand  it  readily,  yet  there  was  a  well-defined 
social  system  and  a  sort  of  social  code.  He  points 
out  that  the  truthfulness  of  the  native  was  quite  re- 
markable, that  they  showed  reasonableness,  open- 
mindedness,  insight,  and,  especially,  an  engaging 
frankness.  His  description  of  a  native  court  of  law 
is  one  to  remember.  I  quote:  "The  complainant 
asks  the  man  against  whom  he  means  to  lodge  his 
complaint  to  come  with  him  to  the  chief.  This  is 
never  refused.  When  both  are  in  the  kotla,  the 
complainant  stands  up  and  states  the  whole  case 
before  the  chief  and  the  people  usually  assembled 
there.  He  stands  a  few  seconds  after  he  has  done 
this,  to  recollect  if  he  has  forgotten  anything.  The 
witnesses  to  whom  he  has  referred  then  rise  up  and 
tell  all  they  themselves  have  seen  or  heard,  but  not 
anything  that  they  have  heard  from  others.  The 
defendant,  after  allowing  some  minutes  to  elapse 
so  that  he  may  not  interrupt  any  of  the  opposite 
party,  slowly  rises,  folds  his  cloak  around  him,  and, 
in  the  most  quiet,  deliberate  way  he  can  assume — 
yawning,  blowing  his  nose,  etc. — begins  to  explain 


L  I  N  Y  A  N  T  I  103 

the  affair,  denying  the  charge,  or  admitting  it,  as  the 
case  may  be.  Sometimes,  when  galled  by  his  re- 
marks, the  complainant  utters  a  sentence  of  dissent; 
the  accused  turns  quietly  to  him,  and  says:  *Be 
silent;  I  sat  still  while  you  were  speaking;  can't  you 
do  the  same?  Do  you  want  to  have  it  all  to  your- 
self?' And  as  the  audience  acquiesce  in  this  banter- 
ing, and  enforce  silence,  he  goes  on  till  he  has  finished 
all  he  wishes  to  say  in  his  defence.  If  he  has  any 
witnesses  to  the  truth  of  the  facts  of  his  defence,  they 
give  their  evidence.  No  oath  is  administered;  but 
occasionally,  when  a  statement  is  questioned,  a  man 
will  say:  'By  my  father,'  or  'By  the  chief,  it  is  so.'" 
It  seems  not  out  of  place  to  say  that  similar  testi- 
monies to  honesty  and  fairness  among  aborigines, 
untouched  by  want  or  greed,  are  forthcoming  from 
many  sources.  If  we  fail  to  realize  that  phenomenon 
of  the  existence  of  certain  virtues  in  primitive  man 
that  are  rare  among  those  living  in  a  vastly  different 
economic  state,  it  will  be  a  little  difficult  to  under- 
stand the  affection  with  which  Livingstone,  and 
other  explorers  and  missionaries,  regarded  the  natives 
with  whom  they  mingled.  For  a  lofty  contempt  of 
the  primitive  man  is  rarely  found  in  those  who  know 
him.  Thus,  Captain  Cook  could  not  say  enough  in 
praise  of  the  Inoits.  Father  Veniani  tells  us  that 
he  did  not  see  a  quarrel  among  natives  during  the 
ten  years  he  spent  at  Ounalaska.  Hall  has  set  on 
record  his  admiration  for  the  honesty  and  the  fairness 
of  the  native  Labradorians.  J.  Estlin  Carpenter  had 
said  of  the  Sikh  Guru  teaching  that  it  caused  its 


104 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


devotees  to  reject  every  form  of  violence  and  enjoined 
the  completest  forgiveness  of  wrongs.    In  fact,  there 

is  a  host  of  evidence,  missionary-  and  otherwise, 
testifying  to  the  honesty  and  fairness  of  primitive 
man  in  many  parts  of  the  world.  Dr.  Kolff,  Colonel 
Dalton,  Mr.  Hodgson  of  the  Asiatic  Society,  and 
many  others,  speaking  well  in  this  respect  of  natives 
of  Central  Africa,  of  Malayans,  Lepchas,  Papuans, 
Madagascans,  and  many  others  that  space  does  not 
permit  listing.  Livingstone  is  very  emphatic  on  this 
score,  saying  that  "the  Zulus  .  .  .  are  famed 
for  their  honesty.  .  .  .  The  Recorder  of  Natal 
declared  of  them  that  history-  does  not  present 
another  instance  in  which  so  much  security  for  life 
and  property  has  been  enjoyed,  as  has  been  experi- 
enced, during  the  whole  of  English  occupation,  by 
ten  thousand  colonists,  in  the  midst  of  one  hundred 
thousand  Zulus." 

But,  somehow,  offences  against  property  seem  to 
be  regarded  more  seriously  than  offences  against 
life.  Perhaps  that  accounts,  in  some  measure,  for 
the  equanimity  with  which  so  many  tribes  regarded 
the  beginnings  of  the  trade  in  slaves.  "It  is  hard," 
writes  Livingstone,  "to  make  these  people  feel  that 
shedding  of  blood  is  a  great  crime;  they  must  be 
conscious  that  it  is  wrong,  but,  having  been  ac- 
customed to  bloodshed  from  infancy,  they  are  re- 
markably callous  to  the  enormity  of  the  crime  of 
destroying  human  life."  The  traveler  R.  F.  Burton, 
in  his  book.  Lake  Regions  oj  Central  Africa,  testifies 
similarly,  saying  that  the  African's  only  fear,  after 


LIN  YANTI 


105 


committing  a  treacherous  murder,  is  that  of  being 
haunted  by  the  angry  ghost  of  the  dead.  Other 
African  travelers,  notably  Bosman  and  Baker,  have 
deplored  this  easy  blood-letting  by  a  people  otherwise 
pleasant. 

One  of  Livingstone's  hardest  tasks  was  to  convince 
the  natives  of  what  he  considered  the  error  of  polyg- 
amy, especially  when  his  pupils,  as  in  the  cases  of 
Sechele  and  Sekeletu,  had  three  or  four  wives  with 
whom  they  lived  in  peace.  For  one  thing,  the  act  of 
divorce  had  something  of  the  appearance  of  dis- 
loyalty and  unkindness.  For  another,  it  was  argued 
that  one  man,  one  wife,  meant  something  very  much 
like  an  abandonment  of  hospitality,  because  the 
women  cultivated  the  soil,  and  therefore  a  man  with 
one  wife  would  be  almost  unable  to  entertain  strang- 
ers. 

Shiftlessness  he  found  to  be  rare.  Here  and  there 
were  cases  of  it,  as  when  he  saw  a  small  group,  the 
members  of  which  loafed  and  invited  their  souls  to 
such  an  extent  that  they  cut  down  trees  to  get  the 
fruit,  instead  of  climbing;  but  they  were  the  subjects 
of  denunciations  and  censures. 

There  were  highly  developed  crafts.  The  natives 
understood  the  craft  of  smelting  and  made  excellent 
hoes,  spears,  and  axes.  "I  brought  home  some  of  the 
hoes  Sekeletu  gave  me,"  said  Livingstone  at  the  end 
of  his  first  Journal,  .    .    also  some  others  ob- 

tained in  Kilimane,  and  they  have  been  found  of 
such  good  quality  that  a  friend  of  mine  in  Birming- 
ham has  made  an  Enfield  rifle  out  of  them."  The 


Io6  DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 

natives,  he  tells  us,  in  another  place,  "consider 
English  iron  as  'rotten.'" 

As  for  the  practice  of  medicine,  Livingstone,  him- 
self a  physician,  had  more  than  a  light  regard  for  the 
natives'  skill,  "There  are  numbers  of  other  medi- 
cines (besides  one  having  the  same  effect  as  qui- 
nine) in  use  among  the  natives,  but  I  have  always 
been  obliged  to  regret  want  of  time  to  ascertain  which 
were  useful  and  which  of  no  value.  We  find  a 
medicine  in  use  by  a  tribe  in  one  part  of  the  country, 
and  the  same  plant  employed  by  a  tribe  a  thousand 
miles  distant.  This  surely  must  arise  from  some 
inherent  virtue  in  the  plant."  He  hsts  many  native 
herbal  remedies,  among  them  one  to  produce  perspi- 
ration for  fevered  patients,  another  a  purgative, 
another  an  emetic;  a  plant  from  which  an  infusion 
is  made  for  relief  in  the  case  of  violent  coughing, 
from  the  leaves  of  which  also  a  soap  is  made;  a  drug 
that  is  used  to  expel  snakes  and  rats  from  a  house, 
the  fluid  being  sprinkled  about,  and  the  smell  of  it 
not  unpleasant  to  man;  an  active  caustic;  the  Eski- 
nencia,  used  in  cases  of  croup  and  sore  throat;  castor 
oil;  a  plant  that  is  efficacious  in  cases  of  arrow  poison- 
ing; another  that  he  found  used  to  cure  ulcers. 

He  also  tells  of  plants  from  which  an  illuminating 
oil  is  extracted;  of  dye  plants — red,  blue,  black,  and 
yellow;  of  a  plant  from  which  is  made  a  glue  used  for 
mending  broken  earthenware;  of  a  plant  for  killing 
fish. 

The  Makololo  natives  also  grew  maize  and  made 
meal,  using  pestle  and  mortar  much  in  the  manner 


LIN  YANTI 


107 


of  the  ancient  Egyptians.  They  cultivated  beans, 
groundnuts,  the  sugar  cane,  pumpkins,  watermelons, 
cucumbers,  the  sweet  potato,  and  tobacco,  using  the 
last  as  snulF.  They  also  cared  for  milk  cows,  sheep, 
and  goats.  All  this,  we  remember  with  astonish- 
ment, he  found  among  a  people  who  had  never  seen 
a  white  man  until  they  saw  him. 


CHAPTER  VI 


THE  MARCH  TO  THE  ATLANTIC 

LIVINGSTONE  had  his  first  attack  of  fever  at 
J  Linyanti,  on  the  last  day  of  May,  1853.  It  was 
the  first  of  a  series  of  attacks,  severe  enough  to  have 
brought  many  a  man  dovsn,  but  in  his  case  a  splendid 
nervous  organization  triumphed  over  an  often  over- 
worked body,  and  to  a  natural  soundness  of  consti- 
tution he  added  a  great  power  of  will. 

Just  as  Captain  Cook  did  not  disdain  to  put  him- 
self in  the  charge  of  native  physicians  on  occasion, 
so  Livingstone  gave  himself  to  the  tribal  medicine 
man  by  way  of  experiment.  "He  put  some  roots 
into  a  pot  with  water  and,  when  it  was  boiling,  placed 
it  on  a  spot  beneath  a  blanket  thrown  around  both 
me  and  it.  This  produced  no  immediate  effect;  he 
then  got  a  small  bundle  of  different  kinds  of  medicinal 
woods,  and,  burning  them  in  a  potsherd  nearly  to 
ashes,  used  the  smoke  and  hot  vapor  arising  from 
them  as  an  auxiUary  to  the  other  in  causing  diaphore- 
sis. I  fondly  hoped  that  they  had  a  more  patent 
remedy  than  our  o\m  medicines  afford;  but  after 
being  stewed  in  their  vapor  baths,  smoked  like  a  red 
herring  over  green  twigs,  and  charmed  secundem  ar- 
tem,  I  concluded  that  I  could  cure  the  fever  more 
quickly  than  they  can."    His  treatment  consisted  of 

108 


THE   MARCH  TO   THE   ATLANTIC  I09 


a  wet  sheet  and  a  mild  aperient  in  combination  with 
quinine  "in  addition  to  the  native  remedies,  the 
former  by  way  of  doing  for  the  aUmentary  canal 
what  the  latter  did  for  the  skin."  Livingstone  was 
not  chasing  any  phantoms  or  hoping  for  impossible 
things  in  the  way  of  cures,  but,  being  a  man  singularly 
free  from  bigotry,  he  was  holding  himself  open  to 
out-of-the-way  truth. 

Unhappily,  Livingstone  found  no  reliable  fever 
cure  and  did  not  become  immune  from  attacks.  For 
the  remainder  of  his  life  he  suffered.  In  this,  his 
first  case,  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  travel,  he  set  off 
on  his  tremendous  journey  to  the  west. 

It  is  necessary  to  pause  awhile  and  take  stock, 
setting  things  down  clearly  and  plainly,  even  at  the 
risk  of  being  accused  of  useless  repetition;  otherwise, 
the  real  meaning  of  that  stupendous  feat  will  hardly 
be  appreciated,  especially  by  the  reader  who  does  not 
follow  the  route  step  by  step  on  a  good  map.  Living- 
stone had  found  a  country,  hitherto  unknown,  that, 
though  fever-stricken,  was  of  great  natural  beauty 
and  rich  in  natural  resources.  The  natives  were 
kindly  disposed  and  would  be  benefited  by  an  intro- 
duction of  civilized  arts  and  crafts,  a  knowledge  of 
the  Christian  religion  and  such  education  as  they 
were  capable  of  receiving.  But  if  that  condition 
was  to  be  attained,  a  route  to  the  outer  world  would 
have  to  be  found,  and,  as  transportation  methods 
then  existed,  the  route  Livingstone  had  traveled 
across  the  desert  was  impossible.  So  he  made  up  his 
mind  to  see  whether  a  route  could  be  found  from  the 


I  lO 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


Atlantic  coast.    That  route  he  intended  to  travel  by 
pushing  up  the  rivers  in  canoes,  by  riding  on  ox  back,  ^ 
or  by  walking. 

Now  as  to  the  distances.  For  the  better  appreci- 
ation of  them,  let  us  again  suppose  the  map  of  Africa 
superimposed  upon  one  of  North  America,  using  the 
same  scale,  of  course.  We  have  already  seen  how, 
supposing  Algoa  Bay,  his  starting  point,  to  be 
situated  at  Galveston,  Texas,  he  had  advanced  to 
Linyanti,  which  would  be  approximately  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Duluth.  We  must  also  count  the 
prospecting  tours  he  took  as  having  taken  him  to 
points  as  far  afield  as  Fort  William,  Ontario,  and 
Sault  Sainte  Marie.  Now  comes  the  magnificent 
plan.  It  involved  a  journey  that  might,  with  close 
accuracy,  be  outlined  thus:  a  general  northwesterly 
course  around  the  north  end  of  Lake  Winnipeg,  then 
northwest  until  he  reached  Yukon  Territory;  or,  say, 
from  Duluth  to  Seattle  and  beyond.  That  would 
approximate  the  distance  and  route  traveled  by 
Livingstone  in  his  first  great  African  journey. 

As  for  his  party  and  outfit,  both  were  cut  down  to 
a  minimum.  Twenty-seven  natives  were  appointed 
by  Sekeletu  to  go  with  him,  and  the  three  who  had 
been  his  companions,  with  the  trader  also,  turned 
back  to  Kuruman.  Some  idea  of  his  own  personal 
belongings  is  gained  from  a  letter  written  to  his 
father,  part  of  which  ran:  "Our  intentions  are  to  go 
up  the  Luba  till  we  reach  the  falls,  then  send  back  the 
canoe  and  proceed  in  the  country  beyond  as  best  we 
can.    ...    If  my  watch  comes  back  after  I  am 


THE    MARCH   TO   THE    ATLANTIC  III 


cut  off,  it  belongs  to  Agnes.  If  my  sextant,  it  is 
Robert's.  The  Paris  medal  to  Thomas.  Double- 
barreled  gun  to  Zouga.  Be  a  father  to  the  fatherless 
and  a  husband  to  the  widow  for  Jesus'  sake.  The 
Boers  by  taking  possession  of  all  my  goods  have 
saved  me  the  trouble  of  making  a  will."  For  the 
rest,  he  left  his  wagon  and  books,  and  a  few  articles  of 
clothing,  in  charge  of  Sekeletu,  at  Linyanti.  His 
weapons  were  three  muskets  for  his  men,  who  shot  so 
indifferently  that  the  explorer  always  felt  himself  to 
be  in  danger  when  they  aimed.  For  himself  there 
was  a  rifle  and  the  double-barreled  smooth-bore  gun 
willed  to  Zouga.  "I  have  always  found,"  he  writes  x' 
in  his  Journal,  "that  the  art  of  successful  travel 
consisted  in  taking  as  few  impedimenta  as  possible, 
and  not  forgetting  to  carry  my  wits  about  me.  The 
outfit  was  rather  spare,  and  intended  to  be  still  more 
so  when  we  should  come  to  leave  the  canoes.  Some 
would  consider  it  injudicious  to  adopt  this  plan,  but 
I  had  a  secret  conviction  that  if  I  did  not  succeed,  it 
would  not  be  for  want  of  the  knick-knacks  adver- 
tised as  indispensable  for  travelers,  but  from  want  of 
pluck,  or  because  a  large  array  of  baggage  excited 
the  cupidity  of  the  tribes  through  whose  country  we 
wished  to  pass."  Like  Thoreau,  he  refused  to  be  the 
slave  of  his  possessions,  and  his  policy  was  one  of 
renunciation.  Another  reason  for  light  baggage,  and 
one  to  which  he  gives  a  sort  of  mere  nodding  recog- 
nition, was  that  he  wished  to  avoid  the  discourage- 
ment which  would  naturally  be  felt  on  meeting  any 
obstacles  "if  my  companions  were  obliged  to  carry 


112 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


heavy  loads."  Companions,  you  will  note,  not 
servants.  The  word  slips  easily  from  his  pen,  for 
his  Christianity  was  not  a  pigeonholed  system.  The 
complete  outfit  was  this:  a  few  biscuits,  a  few  pounds 
of  tea  and  sugar,  and  twenty  pounds  of  coffee.  We 
infer  that  he  went  without  salt,  and,  in  another  place, 
he  tells  us  that  he  found  it  no  great  hardship  to  do  so. 
For  clothing  there  were  these:  a  tin  box  fifteen  inches 
square  containing  spare  shirting,  trousers,  and  shoes 
to  be  kept  until  civiUzation  was  reached — other 
clothes  in  a  bag  for  wear  en  route.  The  library  was 
a  nautical  almanac,  a  book  of  logarithms,  and  a  Bible. 
For  camping,  he  had  a  sleeping  tent  large  enough  for 
one,  a  sheepskin  and  a  horse-rug.  For  trading  pur- 
poses, there  were  twenty  pounds  of  beads,  and,  for 
the  entertainment  of  the  natives,  a  magic  lantern. 
Of  instruments,  he  had  a  sextant  and  artificial 
horizon,  a  thermometer,  a  stop-watch,  a  large  and  a 
small  compass,  and  a  small  telescope.  With  that 
shm  equipment  he  started  into  unknown  lands  with 
less  misgivings,  apparently,  than  most  men  have 
when  taking  a  three  days'  automobile  tour  in  which 
a  hotel  stands  at  the  end  of  each  day's  run.  His 
unwavering  determination  counted  for  far  more  than 
mechanical  aids  and  contrivances. 

Then  came  order  and  discipUne;  the  reshaping  of 
his  companions  to  his  purpose.  For,  without  formal- 
ized discipline,  the  expedition  would  have  foundered 
within  sight  of  its  starting  place.  True,  all  in  the 
party  were  companions,  but  still  there  had  to  be 
leader  and  subordinates.    So  Livingstone  taught 


THE    MARCH   TO   THE    ATLANTIC  II3 

his  men  to  work  together  for  their  common  comfort. 
At  night,  on  the  journey,  there  was  something  of 
that  machine-like  coordination  to  be  seen  when  some 
great  circus  reaches  a  town,  indecision  absent  because 
each  has  a  set  task  and  a  central  purpose.  Aimless 
efforts  there  were  none.  Neither  was  there  undue 
haste.  There  was  as  effective  an  expenditure  of 
energy  in  the  jungle  as  could  be  found  in  a  well- 
ordered  production  plant  or  an  army  disciplinary 
barracks.  Livingstone  does  not  tell  us  that  in  the 
manner  of  a  theorist  testifying  to  his  own  acumen, 
but  there  are  evidences  aplenty  of  the  truth  of  it. 
Note,  by  way  of  instance,  the  passage  that  follows, 
from  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  Missionary  Travels, 
and  draw  your  own  conclusions:  "As  soon  as  we  land 
some  of  the  men  cut  a  little  grass  for  my  bed,  while 
Mashuana  plants  the  poles  of  the  little  tent.  These 
are  used  by  day  for  carrying  burdens,  for  the  Barotse 
fashion  is  exactly  Hke  that  of  the  natives  of  India, 
only  the  burden  is  fastened  near  the  ends  of  the  pole 
and  not  suspended  by  long  cords.  The  bed  is  made, 
and  boxes  ranged  on  each  side  of  it,  and  then  the  tent 
pitched  over  all.  Four  or  five  feet  in  front  of  my  tent 
is  placed  the  principal  or  kotla  fire,  the  wood  for 
which  must  be  collected  by  the  man  who  occupies  the 
post  of  herald.  .  .  .  Each  person  knows  the 
station  he  is  to  occupy,  in  reference  to  the  post  of 
honor  at  the  fire  in  front  of  the  door  of  the  tent.  The 
two  Makololo  occupy  my  right  and  left,  both  in  eat- 
ing and  sleeping,  as  long  as  the  journey  lasts.  But 
Mashuaana,  my  head  boatman,  makes  his  bed  at  the 


114 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


door  of  my  tent  as  soon  as  I  retire.  The  rest,  divided 
into  small  companies  according  to  their  tribes,  make 
sheds  all  around  the  fire,  leaving  a  horseshoe-shaped 
space  in  front  sufficient  for  the  cattle  to  stand  in. 
The  fire  gives  confidence  to  the  oxen,  so  the  men  are 
always  careful  to  keep  them  in  sight  of  it.  The 
sheds  are  formed  by  planting  two  stout  forked  poles 
in  an  incHned  position,  and  planting  another  over 
these  in  a  horizontal  position.  A  number  of  branches 
are  then  stuck  in  the  ground  in  the  direction  to  which 
the  poles  are  inclined,  the  twigs  drawn  down  to  the 
horizontal  pole,  and  tied  with  strips  of  bark.  Long 
grass  is  then  laid  over  the  branches  in  sufficient 
quantity  to  draw  off  the  rain,  and  we  have  sheds  open 
to  the  fire  in  front  but  secure  from  beasts  behind.  In 
less  than  an  hour  we  were  usually  under  cover. 
.  .  .  The  cooking  is  usually  done  in  the  natives' 
own  style,  and,  as  they  carefully  wash  the  dishes, 
pots,  and  the  hands  before  handHng  food,  it  is  by  no 
means  despicable.  Sometimes  alterations  are  made 
at  my  suggestion,  and  then  they  beheve  that  they 
can  cook  in  thorough  white  man's  fashion.  The 
cook  always  comes  in  for  something  left  in  the  pot, 
so  all  are  eager  to  obtain  the  office.  ...  I 
taught  several  of  them  to  wash  my  shirts,  and  they 
did  it  well,  though  their  teacher  had  never  been 
taught  that  work  himself.  Frequent  change  of  linen 
and  sunning  of  my  blanket  kept  me  more  comfortable 
than  might  have  been  anticipated,  and  I  feel  certain 
that  the  lessons  of  cleanliness  rigidly  instilled  by  my 
mother  in  childhood  helped  to  maintain  that  respect 


THE    MARCH   TO   THE    ATLANTIC  II5 

which  these  people  entertain  for  European  ways.  It 
is  questionable  if  a  descent  to  barbarous  ways  ever 
elevates  a  man  in  the  eyes  of  savages." 

The  journey  from  Linyanti  to  the  Atlantic  coast 
took  a  half  year,  from  November  11,  i8y ,  to  May  3 1, 
1854,  and  in  that  space  of  time  the  explorer  had 
^  twenty-seven  attacks  of  fever.  We  find  such  pas- 
sages as  this:  "I  had  eaten  nothing  for  two  entire 
days,  and  instead  of  sleep,  the  whole  of  the  nights 
were  employed  in  incessant  drinking  of  water."  Or 
this:  "I  was  too  ill  to  go  out  of  my  little  covering 
except  to  quell  a  mutiny  which  began  to  show  itself." 
Again  a  passage  we  shall  note  later:  "my  mind  was 
depressed  by  disease  and  care.  The  fever  had  in- 
duced a  state  of  dysentery,  so  troublesome  that  I 
could  not  remain  on  the  ox  more  than  ten  minutes  at 
a  time."  And  "owing  to  the  weakness  of  the  sick 
men  we  were  able  to  march  but  short  distances." 
To  quote  two  more,  one  painfully  significant,  the 
other  very  characteristic  of  the  man :  "The  weakening 
effects  of  the  fever  were  most  extraordinary  .  .  . 
in  attempting  to  make  lunar  observations  I  could  not 
avoid  confusion  of  time  and  distance,  neither  could 
I  hold  the  instrument  steady,  nor  perform  a  simple 
calculation."  "I  am  getting  tired  of  quoting  my 
fevers  and  never  liked  to  read  travels  myself  where 
much  was  said  about  the  illnesses  of  the  traveler;  I 
shall  henceforth  endeavor  to  say  little  of  them." 

It  is  a  high  achievement  to  have  made  the  journey 
at  all  under  such  bodily  stress,  battling  the  while  with 
adverse  conditions  of  weather  and  insect  plagues;  but 


Il6  DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 

by  what  marvelous  detachment  from  pain  was  he 
enabled  to  observe  and  make  notes  and  drawings  and 
set  down  things  in  honor  of  Nature's  beauty?  Not 
only  that,  but  there  is  about  him,  very  often,  a 
peculiar  vein  of  pleasantry  and  delicate  fancy,  so  that 
sometimes  you  find  in  him  a  self-repressed  humorist. 
I  recall  one  instance  among  many,  in  which  he  tells  of 
ox-riding:  "I  had  an  opportunity  of  observing  the 
pecuUarities  of  my  ox  Sinbad.  He  had  a  softer  back 
than  the  others,  but  a  much  more  intractable  temper. 
His  horns  were  bent  downward  and  hung  loosely,  so 
he  could  do  no  harm  with  them;  but  as  we  wended  our 
way  slowly  along  the  narrow  path,  he  would  sud- 
denly dart  aside.  A  string  tied  to  a  stick  put 
through  the  cartilage  of  the  nose  serves  instead  of  a 
bridle;  you  jerk  this  back,  it  makes  him  run  faster  on; 
if  you  pull  it  to  one  side,  he  allows  the  nose  and  head 
to  go,  but  keeps  the  opposite  eye  directed  to  the  for- 
bidden spot,  and  goes  in  spite  of  you.  The  only 
way  he  can  be  brought  to  a  stand  is  by  a  stroke  with 
a  wand  across  the  nose.  When  Sinbad  ran  in  below 
a  climber  stretched  across  the  path  so  low  that  I  could 
not  stoop  under  it,  I  was  dragged  off  and  came  down 
on  the  crown  of  my  head;  and  he  never  allowed  an 
opportunity  of  the  kind  to  pass  without  trying  to 
inflict  a  kick,  as  if  I  neither  had  nor  deserved  his 
love."  The  man  whose  sense  of  humor  rose  above 
his  bodily  pain  in  that  way  had  the  heart  of  a  Thomas 
Hood. 

His  indescribable  freshness  and  enthusiasm,  in- 
deed, never  failed  him.    When  it  comes  to  obser- 


THE    MARCH   TO   THE   ATLANTIC  II7 

vation  of  nature,  his  descriptions  are  vivid  and  strik- 
ing. He  is  always  picturesque  and  he  is  always  inter- 
esting. There  are  pages  on  spiders,  on  ants  and  their 
ways,  on  snakes,  on  butterflies,  on  ticks,  and  on 
caterpillars.  Reading  them,  one  is  in  touch  with  a 
journal  of  scientific  travel  as  interesting  as  Darwin's 
record  of  his  world  voyage  in  the  Beagle.  He  lists 
and  describes  birds  and  their  ways  with  the  facility 
of  expression  of  a  Hudson.  He  notes  minute  phe- 
nomena and  sets  down  what  he  observes  with  the 
particularity  of  a  Thoreau.  So  his  pages  are  treasure 
houses  for  the  ordinary  man  whose  knowledge  of 
African  fauna  and  flora  is  hmited  to  what  he  sees 
behind  the  bars  of  a  zoological  garden,  or  in  botanical 
glasshouses.  And  how  the  man  saw!  A  word  or  two 
and  you  have  a  picture.  I  open  the  first  volume  at 
random,  almost,  finding  mention  of  "one  pretty 
little  wader,  an  avoset,  which  appears  as  if  standing 
on  stilts,  its  legs  are  so  long,  and  its  bill  seems  bent 
the  wrong  way."  And  this:  .  .  the  Parra 
Africana  runs  about  on  the  surface  of  a  pond  as  if 
walking  on  water,  catching  insects.  It,  too,  had  long 
thin  legs,  and  extremely  long  toes,  for  the  purpose  of 
enabling  it  to  stand  on  the  floating  lotus  leaves,  and 
other  aquatic  plants."  There  are  numberless  little 
vignettes  such  as  these,  pictures  of  things  seen  with 
an  amused  surprise,  and  told  of  with  Hghtness. 

On  that  long  journey,  in  almost  every  case,  the 
party  was  met  by  other  tribes  with  hospitality  and 
good-humor  and  kindness.  But  now  and  then  there 
was  no  avoiding  active  collisions  and  unpleasant 


ii8 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


scenes,  though  Livingstone  shed  no  man's  blood. 
Once  a  chief  imagined  himself  insulted,  and  de- 
manded something  by  way  of  satisfaction — a  man, 
or  an  ox,  or  a  gun.  Upon  Livingstone's  stout  re- 
fusal, there  was  a  significant  display  of  hostihties, 
with  one  man  making  a  cut  at  the  explorer's  head 
with  a  sword.  So  Livingstone  took  out  and  pointed 
a  pistol,  but  that  was  all.  For  a  while,  it  was  nip  and 
tuck,  but  somehow  Livingstone  controlled  matters, 
getting  the  chief  seated  and  encouraging  him  to  talk, 
which  he  did,  at  great  length.  It  was  a  safety  valve, 
and  there  was  no  explosion. 

Another  time,  when  mutiny  in  his  own  camp 
seemed  imminent,  and  when  a  command  was  greeted 
with  an  impudent  laugh,  "knowing  that  discipHne 
would  be  at  an  end  if  this  mutiny  were  not  quelled, 
and  that  our  lives  depended  on  vigorously  upholding 
authority,  I  seized  a  double-barreled  pistol  and 
darted  forth  .  .  .  looking,  I  suppose,  so  savage 
as  to  put  them  to  precipitate  flight.  .  .  .  They 
never  afterwards  gave  me  any  trouble."  Living- 
stone won  because  of  his  quick  intelligence,  knowl- 
edge that  came  from  experience,  and  calm  courage. 
Nor  must  it  be  overlooked  that  he  possessed,  in  an 
exceptional  degree,  the  old-fashioned  virtues  of  self- 
control  and  patience  and  persistence.  Furthermore, 
he  was  master  of  men  because  he  was  master  of  him- 
self. 

The  journey  from  Linyanti  to  the  Atlantic  coast 
took,  as  I  have  said,  a  half  year  to  accomplish.  It  is 
one  of  the  brilliant  exploits  of  history,  but  one  that, 


THE    MARCH   TO   THE    ATLANTIC  II9 

not  being  closely  connected  with  either  commercial- 
ism or  arms,  is  partially  forgotten,  and  remembered 
mostly  by  special  students.  It  is  comparable  to 
the  thirty-year  journey  taken  by  Ibn  Batuta,  a 
journey  full  of  strange  adventure.  It  stands  on  a 
plane  with  that  expedition  into  the  icy  north,  taken 
in  1916  by  Inspector  F.  H.  French  of  the  Bathurst 
Inlet  Patrol.  It  ranks  with  the  amazing  pilgrimage 
made  by  Barthema,  the  first  European  to  learn  of 
AustraHa.  It  is  comparable  to  the  wanderings  of 
Huen-Tsaing  and  of  Marco  Polo.  And  this  is  not 
to  be  overlooked.  In  each  of  these  cases  there  was, 
in  the  wanderer,  what  Pindar  calls  "inborn,  in- 
herited nobility,"  without  which  there  has  never 
been  the  highest  attainment.  That  passage  from 
Pindar  is  worth  quoting  in  this  connection,  and  worth 
remembering,  too,  if  for  no  other  purpose  than  that 
one  torn  asunder  with  dual  purposes  and  therefore 
given  to  a  sort  of  spinelessness,  may  learn  to  stand 
upright,  fix  his  eyes  on  a  Polaris,  and  march  to  a 
goal.  "By  inborn  nobility  doth  one  mightily  pre- 
vail. But  he  who  hath  only  what  he  hath  been 
taught — a  man  obscure,  eager  now  for  this  and  now 
for  that — that  man  never  entereth  the  Hsts  with 
unflinching  foot,  but  essayeth  countless  achieve- 
ments with  ineffectual  purpose." 

Now,  in  the  course  of  that  half  year,  Livingstone 
encountered  besides  his  sickness,  numberless,  vari- 
ous, and  persistent  hardships.  Sometimes  his  party 
was  knee-deep  in  flood,  sometimes  in  arid  land  so 
thickly  grass-covered  that  every  step  was  laborious. 


I20 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


When  they  neared  lands  that  had  been  touched  by- 
slave  dealers  and  traders  and  drivers,  from  the  west, 
there  were  meetings  with  chiefs  that  were  like  mad 
dreams  because  of  suspicion;  there  were  silly  de- 
mands that  they  pay  their  way;  there  were  plots  to 
entrap  them  into  trouble,  as  when  a  native  placed  in 
their  path  a  worthless  knife  which  one  of  Living- 
stone's men  picked  up,  and  then  that  was  considered 
occasion  for  charges  and  counter  charges.  Some- 
times they  were  on  the  verge  of  starvation  and  driven  ' 
to  eat  moles  and  mice;  there  were  days  of  weary 
travel  in  swamps  where  the  air  seemed  heavy  and 
poisoned,  there  were  miles  of  travel  when  they  were 
conscious  of  human  enemies  in  the  jungle  following, 
always  unseen,  a  path  parallel  to  theirs;  and  there 
were  anxious  and  uncomfortable  nights  when  they 
heard  whisperings  in  the  dense  foliage — ^just  one 
more  thing  to  tax  the  brain  and  temper  of  the  fever- 
stricken  leader.  After  a  day  of  infinite  misery,  a 
silly  and  childish  chief  sent  a  messenger  to  Living- 
stone, commanding  him  to  rise  from  his  sick  bed  and 
make  obeisance.  But  the  petty  w^ll  of  the  ruler 
was  easily  and  peacefully  negatived  by  the  explorer, 
who  was  sore  stricken  but  not  to  be  humiliated. 
Somehow  Livingstone's  cool  intelligence  and  courage 
with  regard  to  himself  as  well  as  others  always  won 
through,  and  he  was  never  drawn  into  any  clownish 
conflicts.  But,  with  it  all,  despair  never  bit  into  his 
solitude.  He  not  only  saw  the  end  as  more  im- 
portant than  his  achievement  of  it,  but  never  lost 
his  detachment,  his  awareness  of  cosmic  humor. 


THE    MARCH   TO   THE    ATLANTIC  121 


But  this  attitude  did  not  weaken  his  purpose,  it 
ennobled  it.  He  was  no  ironic  poet,  but  a  mission- 
ary and  explorer  with  a  definite  purpose;  a  religious 
Scot  cutting  through  Africa  to  the  Atlantic;  and 
although  he  may  have  felt  the  gigantic  humor  of  his 
situation,  he  indubitably  had  a  quiet  faith  and  was 
assured  that  if  a  time  came  when  he  could  in  no 
wise  hold  off  complete  disaster,  a  hand  would  be 
stretched  out  to  rescue  him.  For  his  faith  was  very 
real  when  things  "pinched  him  sore." 

He  records  things  most  strange  and  thought  pro- 
voking. Once,  at  the  confluence  of  two  rivers,  one  of 
his  men  picked  up  "a  bit  of  steel  watch  chain  of 
English  manufacture!"  Imagination  runs  riot  specu- 
lating about  that.  It  is  as  amazing  as  if  someone  on 
an  unfrequented  sea  beach  chanced  to  pick  up  that 
wax-encased,  tar-enrolled  record  which  Columbus 
threw  overboard.  Another  time  he  came  across 
natives  who  had  never  seen  a  white  man,  and  who 
greeted  him  with  the  exclamation  "Allah!";  and  a 
second  group  who  saluted  him  with  "Ave'rie"  which 
he  took  to  be  a  corruption  of  Ave  Maria,  as  he  took 
the  Allah  to  have  strangely  passed  from  mouth  to 
mouth,  from  Arabia.  "The  salutation  probably 
travels  farther  than  the  faith,"  he  adds.  He  tells  of 
native  children  who  were  given  such  names  as  Gun, 
Horse,  Wagon,  Jesus,  those  words  having  been  heard 
with  pleasure  by  the  parents.  He  writes  of  a  wonder- 
ful reception  when  a  party  of  native  musicians  gave 
a  concert.  There  were  "three  drummers,  and  four 
performers  on  the  piano."    The  native  name  for  the 


122 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


last-named  instrument  was  Marimba,  a  sort  of 
xylophone  with  a  sounding-board  attached.  As  he 
describes  it,  it  "consists  of  two  bars  of  wood  placed 
side  by  side,  here  quite  straight,  but,  farther  north, 
bent  round  so  as  to  resemble  the  half  tire  of  a  carriage 
wheel;  across  these  are  placed  about  fifteen  wooden 
keys,  each  of  which  is  two  or  three  inches  broad,  and 
fifteen  or  eighteen  inches  long;  their  thickness  is 
regulated  according  to  the  deepness  of  the  note  re- 
quired; each  of  the  keys  has  a  calabash  beneath  it; 
from  the  upper  part  of  each  a  portion  is  cut  off  to 
enable  them  to  embrace  the  bars,  and  form  hollow 
sounding-boards  to  the  keys,  which  also  are  of  differ- 
ent sizes,  according  to  the  note  required;  and  little 
drumsticks  elicit  the  music.  Rapidity  of  execution 
seems  much  admired  among  them,  and  the  music  is 
pleasant  to  the  ear." 

Scattered  here  and  there  are  evidences  of  that 
open-mindedness  by  which  he  refused  to  look  upon 
any  dissidence  from  his  own  belief  or  opinion  as  a 
tremendous  evil.  Above  all,  he  was  in  favor  of  frank- 
ness and  outspokenness  and  sincere  speaking.  Mark 
this  as  an  example.  He  is  writing  of  some  Arabs 
with  whom  he  once  conversed.  "When  speaking 
about  our  Saviour,  I  admired  the  boldness  with 
which  they  informed  me  'that  Christ  was  a  very  good 
prophet,  but  Mahommed  a  far  greater.'"  This, 
again,  which  strikes  me  as  a  particularly  fine  passage 
as  revealing  his  objection  to  censoriousness:  "The 
great  difficulty  in  dealing  with  these  people  is  to  make 
the  subject  plain.    The  minds  of  the  auditors  cannot 


THE    MARCH   TO   THE    ATLANTIC  I23 

be  understood  by  one  who  has  not  mingled  much  with 
them.  They  readily  pray  for  the  forgiveness  of  sins, 
and  then  sin  again;  confess  the  evil  of  it,  and  there  the 
matter  ends,  ...  I  shall  not  often  advert  to 
their  depravity.  My  practice  has  always  been  to 
apply  the  remedy  with  all  possible  earnestness,  but 
never  allow  my  own  mind  to  dwell  on  the  dark  shades 
of  men's  characters.  I  have  never  been  able  to  draw 
pictures  of  guilt,  as  if  that  could  awaken  Christian 
sympathy.  The  evil  is  there.  But  all  around  in  this 
fair  creation  are  scenes  of  beauty,  and  to  turn  from 
these  to  ponder  on  deeds  of  sin  cannot  promote  a 
healthy  state  of  the  faculties.  I  attribute  much  of 
the  bodily  health  I  enjoy  to  following  the  plan 
adopted  by  most  physicians,  who,  while  engaged  in 
active,  laborious  efforts  to  assist  the  needy,  at  the 
same  time  follow  the  deUghtful  studies  of  some  de- 
partment of  natural  history.  The  human  misery 
and  sin  we  endeavor  to  alleviate  and  cure  may  be 
likened  to  the  sickness  and  impurity  of  some  of  the 
back  slums  of  great  cities.  One  contents  himself 
by  ministering  to  the  sick  and  trying  to  remove  the 
causes,  without  remaining  longer  in  the  filth  than 
is  necessary  for  his  work;  another,  equally  anxious 
for  the  public  good,  stirs  up  every  cesspool,  that  he 
may  describe  its  reeking  vapors,  and,  by  long  con- 
tact with  impurities,  becomes  himself  infected,  sickens 
and  dies." 

At  last,  on  the  31st  day  of  May,  1854,  they  were 
in  sight  of  their  objective  point.  Yet  it  was  not  that. 
It  was  a  turning  point,  for  Livingstone  had  given 


124 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


his  word  to  the  boy  king,  and  to  the  natives  who  were 
his  companions,  that  he  would  not  leave  them,  but 
would  see  them  back  in  safety  to  their  Linyanti  home. 
So  they  were  to  retrace  all  thoseweary  steps  presently. 
They  were  to  face  all  those  jungle  horrors,  all  that 
phantom  world;  they  were  to  recross  that  path  of  the 
slave-traders  where  were  drying  skeletons,  and  brutal- 
ized natives,  and  ugly  cruelty.  Again  they  would 
have  to  pass  dark  swamps,  and  vast  places  of  fallen 
trees,  and  wide  stretches  of  black  lagoon  water,  and 
strange  forest  land  that  was  like  a  phantasmagoria 
at  night.  And  they  were  ragged,  and  thin  as  skele- 
tons, and  fever-wasted,  and  travel-worn  as  they 
climbed  the  last  hill;  but  all  who  had  left  Linyanti 
were  there  still.  Not  one  had  fallen  by  the  way  by 
violent  death  or  disease.  Nor  had  the  lives  of  others 
been  wasted. 

Then  they  saw  the  sea,  on  a  day  bright  and  calm, 
the  sharpness  of  the  horizon  lost  in  haze.  "My 
companions  looked  upon  the  boundless  ocean  with 
awe,"  runs  the  record,  "On  describing  their  feeUngs 
afterward,  they  remarked  that  'we  marched  along 
with  our  father  [Livingstone]  beUeving  that  what 
the  ancients  had  always  told  us  was  true,  that  the 
world  has  no  end;  but  all  at  once  the  world  said  to  us, 
I  am  finished  and  there  is  no  more  of  me!'  They  had 
always  imagined  that  the  world  was  one  extended 
plain  without  limit.  .  .  .  They  were  now  some- 
what apprehensive  of  suffering  want,  and  I  was  un- 
able to  allay  their  fears  with  any  promise  of  supply; 
for  my  own  mind  was  depressed  by  disease  and  care. 


THE    MARCH   TO   THE    ATLANTIC  12$ 

The  fever  had  induced  a  state  of  chronic  dysentery, 
so  troublesome  that  I  could  not  remain  on  the  ox 
more  than  ten  minutes  at  a  time;  and  as  we  came 
down  the  declivity  above  the  city  of  Loanda  on  the 
thirty-first  of  May,  I  was  laboring  under  great  de- 
pression of  spirits,  as  I  understood  that,  in  a  popu- 
lation of  twelve  thousand  souls,  there  was  but  one 
genuine  English  gentleman.  I  naturally  felt  anxious 
to  know  whether  he  were  possessed  of  good-nature, 
or  was  one  of  those  crusty  mortals  one  would  rather 
not  meet  at  all. 

"This  gentleman,  Mr.  Gabriel,  our  commissioner 
for  the  suppression  of  the  slave-trade,  had  kindly 
forwarded  an  invitation  to  meet  me  on  way  from 
Cassange,  but,  unfortunately,  it  crossed  me  on  the 
road.  When  we  entered  his  porch,  I  was  delighted  to 
see  a  number  of  flowers  cultivated  carefully,  and  in- 
ferred from  this  circumstance  that  he  was,  what  I 
soon  discovered  him  to  be,  a  real  whole-hearted 
EngHshman. 

"Seeing  me  ill,  he  benevolently  offered  me  his  bed. 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  luxurious  pleasure  I  enjoyed 
in  feehng  myself  again  on  a  good  English  couch, 
after  six  months'  sleeping  on  the  ground.  I  was  soon 
asleep;  and  Mr.  Gabriel,  coming  in  almost  im- 
mediately, rejoiced  at  the  soundness  of  my  repose." 

So  one  chapter  in  the  lonely  struggle  was  ended, 
and  the  man  of  courage  and  command  counted  it  a 
hopeful  sign.  But  not  much  more  than  a  sign,  after 
all.    What  he  had  done,  he  held,  showed  nothing 


126 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


more  than  the  impossibility  of  making  a  highway  ✓ 
between  Linyanti  and  the  coast.  To  be  sure,  he  and 
his  companions  had  pushed  through,  by  patient  and 
persistent  and  organized  effort,  and  they  would 
fight  their  way  back  again.  But  in  his  opinion 
there  were  too  many  natural  obstacles  to  allow  of  a 
hope  for  any  outlet  that  way. 

Some  effort  was  put  upon  him  to  go  to  England  on 
board  a  British  cruiser,  the  Forerunner,  but  he  was 
obdurate.  He  had  given  his  promise  to  his  native 
friends,  and  to  Sekeletu,  and  that  promise  he  would 
fulfil,  for  otherwise  his  companions  would  be  exiles  in 
a  strange  land.  Also,  there  was  Linyanti,  cut  off 
from  civilization,  and  if  a  road  from  it  to  the  west  was 
not  possible,  then  perhaps  a  road  to  the  east  would 
be;  and  that  possibility  he  proposed  to  investigate. 
"I  therefore  resolved  to  decline  the  tempting  offers 
of  my  naval  friends,  and  take  back  my  Makololo 
companions  to  their  chief,  with  a  view  of  trying  to 
make  a  pathway  from  his  country  to  the  east  coast 
by  means  of  the  great  river  Zambesi  or  Lecambye." 
Thus  writes  the  amazing  man,  having  in  mind  a 
journey  on  foot  comparable  to  one  starting  at  Seattle, 
let  us  say,  to  walk  to  Winnipeg,  with  the  purpose  of 
finding  a  road  to  New  York  City.  That  roughly 
approximates  the  chosen  route  if  the  turnings  and 
twistings  and  loopings  are  taken  into  account. 

Because  of  his  weakness,  Livingstone  was  unable 
to  start  on  the  back  trail  before  the  latter  part  of 
September,  1854.  But  he  used  the  time  to  ad- 
vantage, getting  his  notes  in  order,  and  writing  full 


THE    MARCH   TO   THE    ATLANTIC  \2J 

reports  for  the  Geographical  Society  and  the  Astrono- 
mer Royal.  These  he  sent  to  England  by  the  Fore- 
runner, which  carried  mail  from  Africa. 

During  his  convalescence  at  Loanda,  the  pleasing 
news  came  to  him  that  his  men  had,  of  their  own 
initiative,  gone  to  work  for  themselves.  It  was  the 
result  of  the  rigorous  discipline  to  which  he  had 
accustomed  them.  They  drove  a  brisk  trade  in 
firewood.  They  went  to  work  unloading  freight  from 
the  ships.  They  did  odd  jobs  in  gardens  and  fields. 
And  they  did  all  that  though  everything  about  them 
was  exciting  and  full  of  novelty  and  delight — the 
ships  which  they  looked  upon  as  towns,  the  houses, 
the  shops.  Discipline  had  flowered  into  character. 
More,  with  their  money  they  bought  wisely,  "se- 
lecting the  strongest  pieces  of  English  calico  and 
other  cloths,  showing  that  they  had  regard  to 
strength  without  reference  to  color."  Education  had 
equipped  them  for  life,  and  they  showed  themselves 
adaptable  to  a  new  environment.  Livingstone  could 
have  asked  no  better  proof  of  the  correctness  of  his 
theory.  It  was  outstanding  evidence  of  the  result 
of  the  power  of  example. 

The  general  government  and  merchants  of  Loanda 
showed  active  friendship.  By  public  subscription 
and  otherwise,  they  obtained  as  presents  for  Se- 
keletu  a  "colonel's  complete  uniform  and  a  horse 
.  .  .  and  suits  of  clothing  for  all  the  men"  in 
Livingstone's  train.  The  horse  did  not  survive  long, 
dying  from  inflammation  when  they  were  a  few  weeks 
on  their  journey.    There  were  also  "specimens  of  all 


128 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


articles  of  trade,  and  two  donkeys,  for  the  purpose  of 
introducing  the  breed  into  Sekeletu's  country,  as 
tsetse  flies  cannot  kill  this  beast  of  burden."  Living- 
stone himself  took  a  new  tent,  a  stock  of  cotton  cloth, 
fresh  supplies  of  ammunition  and  beads,  and  pre- 
sented each  of  his  men  with  a  musket.  But  they  had 
accumulated  so  much  on  their  own  account  that 
they  were  unable  to  carry  Livingstone's  possessions. 
He  was  helped  out  of  this  curious  difficulty  by  the 
Right  Reverend  Joachim  Moreira  Reis,  who  had 
conceived  a  strong  affection  for  the  Protestant 
explorer-missionary,  and  who  furnished  twenty  car- 
riers and  sent  forward  to  all  the  district  chiefs  through 
whose  territory  Livingstone  would  pass,  orders  to 
give  him  every  assistance  possible. 

Not  long  after  leaving  Loanda  Livingstone  heard 
bad  news.  The  Forerunner  had  struck  a  sunken 
rock  off  St.  Lorenzo,  Madeira,  October  25,  1854,  and 
mails  and  fourteen  lives  had  been  lost.  Livingstone 
laid  up  at  Pungo  Adongo,  reproduced  the  reports 
and  maps,  and  in  his  Journal  makes  no  more  ado 
about  the  tremendous  task  than  if  he  had  mislaid  his 
hat.  He  was,  he  says,  quite  reconciled  to  the  labor 
of  rewriting,  because  his  friend.  Lieutenant  Beding- 
feld,  to  whom  he  had  handed  the  papers,  was  not 
among  those  lost. 

Before  Livingstone  left  Pungo  Adongo,  he  learned 
something  of  his  country's  affairs — Httle  more  than  a 
hint,  but  one  that  awoke  a  longing  to  know  more. 
For  a  copy  of  the  Times  was  sent  to  him  by  his  Loanda 
friends  and,  "among  other  news,  an  account  of  the 


THE    MARCH   TO   THE    ATLANTIC  I29 

Russian  war  up  to  the  terrible  charge  of  the  light 
cavalry.  The  intense  anxiety  I  felt  to  hear  more  may 
be  imagined  by  every  true  patriot;  but  I  was  forced 
to  brood  on  in  silent  thought,  and  utter  my  poor 
prayers  for  friends  who  perchance  were  now  no  more, 
until  I  reached  the  other  side  of  the  continent." 
This  refers,  of  course,  to  the  famous  charge  of  the  six 
hundred,  at  the  battle  of  Balaklava,  October  25, 
1854,  when  six  hundred  and  seventy  horsemen  at- 
tacked the  Russian  batteries,  and  only  a  hundred  and 
ninety-eight  returned. 

Their  greatest  trouble  in  the  beginning  of  the  re- 
turn march  was  the  heavy  and  incessant  rain.  Rivers 
became  seas  bordered  with  debris,  and  inconsiderable 
rivulets  changed  overnight  into  torrents.  When  no 
rain  was  falling,  there  was  still  "tree-rain,"  a  steady 
downpour;  and  ground  under  ordinary  conditions 
hard  became  swollen  hke  a  sponge,  or  changed  to 
knee-deep  bog  over  which  animals  refused  to  pass. 
Here  and  there  were  "quaking  meadows"  formed 
by  thick  carpets  of  grass  upon  a  soil  of  mud,  or  some- 
times upon  shallow  water.  Often  there  were  miles 
upon  miles  of  black,  stagnant  water.  When  the 
rain  ceased,  white  mists  arose,  and  it  was  as  if  one 
tried  to  breathe  steam.  Nor  was  it  easily  possible 
to  find  a  moderately  dry  sleeping  place,  or  to  find 
wood  dry  enough  for  the  making  of  a  fire. 

In  such  conditions  the  intermittent  fevers  from 
which  the  explorer  had  suffered  changed  into  severe 
attacks  of  rheumatic  fevers,  "brought  on  by  being 
obliged  to  sleep  on  an  extensive  plain  covered  with 


130 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


water.  ,  .  .  The  rain  poured  down  incessantly, 
but  we  formed  our  beds  by  dragging  up  the  earth  into 
oblong  mounds,  somewhat  like  graves  in  a  country 
churchyard,  and  then  placing  grass  upon  them." 
A  little  later  on  we  have  this  entry:  .  .  the 
heavy  dew  upon  the  high  grass  was  so  cold  as  to 
cause  shivering,  and  I  was  forced  to  lie  for  eight  days, 
tossing  and  groaning  with  violent  pain  in  the  head. 
This  was  the  most  severe  attack  I  had  endured.  It 
made  me  quite  unfit  to  move,  or  even  know  what  was 
passing  outside  my  little  tent." 

While  he  was  thus  incapacitated,  one  of  those  silly 
little  quarrels  which  might,  at  a  turn,  have  grown 
into  something  serious,  came  to  pass. 

It  began  when  one  of  the  men  of  Livingstone's  party 
was  bargaining  with  a  native  of  the  country  in  which 
they  were  camped.  The  trading  seems  to  have  gone 
on  for  a  time  with  great  solemnity,  then  without  ade- 
quate cause  developed  into  a  heated  argument,  in  the 
course  of  which  the  tribesman  with  the  meat  was 
struck  in  the  mouth.  Immediately,  the  result  was 
magnified  into  a  disgrace  to  the  tribe,  and  men  with 
assegais  came  running,  much  as  if  the  men  of  the 
Livingstone  party  had  changed  to  ravening  tigers. 
To  make  peace  and  atonement,  Livingstone's  head- 
man offered  to  give  five  pieces  of  cloth  and  a  gun,  but 
with  the  offer  made,  the  other  side  became  eager  with 
increased  demands.  At  that  Livingstone  crawled 
from  his  bed  to  take  a  hand,  and,  learning  how 
matters  stood,  refused  to  yield  up  anything  at  all. 
So  we  picture  the  natives  fierce  and  threatening. 


THE    MARCH   TO   THE    ATLANTIC  I3I 


blundering  about  the  camp  and  being  driven  away, 
others  coming  and  confusing  the  issue  with  talk  and 
explanations  that  did  not  explain.  Thereupon  Liv- 
ingstone gave  the  order  to  march,  and  the  tribes- 
men seemed  to  disappear.  Seemed  to,  because  they 
took  to  that  disconcerting  and  annoying  trick  of  keep- 
ing on  a  parallel  course,  though  remaining  in  hiding, 
which  presignified  an  attack. 

It  came  at  a  place  where  the  travelers  had  to  push 
through  a  thick  tangle  of  underbrush.  The  enemy 
made  a  rush,  knocking  down  some  of  the  burden- 
bearers,  and  shots  were  fired.  Forgetting  his  fever, 
Livingstone  charged,  staggering  as  he  went,  his  six- 
barreled  revolver  displayed.  But  not  to  any  ordi- 
nary native  did  he  go.  "I  fortunately  encountered 
the  chief,"  is  how  he  puts  it.  Then:  "The  sight  of 
the  six  barrels  gaping  into  his  stomach,  with  my  own 
ghastly  visage  looking  daggers  at  his  face,  seemed  to 
produce  an  instant  revolution  in  his  martial  feelings, 
for  he  cried  out,  'Oh!  I  have  only  come  to  speak  to 
you,  and  wish  peace  only.'  Mashuana  [Livingstone's 
headman]  had  him  by  the  hand,  and  found  him 
shaking.  We  examined  his  gun,  and  found  that  it 
had  been  discharged." 

But  matters  did  not  end  there.  One  of  the  enemy, 
with  a  desire  for  distinction,  made  a  rush,  and  a 
Livingstone  man  drove  him  off  with  a  battle  ax. 
Then  Livingstone  the  executive,  with  that  mysterious 
trick  of  producing  awe  by  an  exhibition  of  coolness, 
took  a  hand.  "I  requested  all  to  sit  down,  and  Pit- 
sane,  placing  his  hand  on  the  revolver,  somewhat 


132  DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 

allayed  their  fears.  I  said  to  the  chief:  'If  you  have 
come  with  peaceable  intentions,  we  have  no  other;  go 
away  home  to  your  village.'  He  replied,  'I  am  afraid 
lest  you  shoot  me  in  the  back.'  I  rejoined,  'If  I 
wanted  to  kill  you,  I  could  shoot  you  in  the  face  as 
well.'  Mosantu  called  out  to  me:  'That's  only  a 
Makalaka  trick;  don't  give  him  your  back.'  But  I 
said,  'Tell  him  to  observe  that  I  am  not  much  afraid 
of  him,'  and,  turning,  mounted  my  ox.  There  was 
not  much  danger  in  the  fire  that  was  opened  at  first, 
there  being  so  many  trees.  The  enemy  probably  ex- 
pected that  the  sudden  attack  would  make  us  for- 
sake our  goods,  and  allow  them  to  plunder  with  ease. 
The  villagers  were  no  doubt  pleased  with  being 
allowed  to  retire  unscathed,  and  we  were  also  glad  to 
get  away  without  having  shed  a  drop  of  blood,  or 
having  compromised  ourselves  for  any  future  visit. 
My  men  were  delighted  with  their  own  bravery,  and 
made  the  woods  ring  with  telling  each  other  how 
brilliant  their  conduct  before  the  enemy  would  have 
been,  had  hostilities  not  been  brought  to  a  sudden 
close.  I  do  not  mention  this  little  skirmish  as  a 
very  frightful  affair.  The  negro  character  in  these 
parts,  and  in  Angola,  is  essentially  cowardly,  except 
when  influenced  by  success.  A  partial  triumph  over 
any  body  of  men  would  induce  the  whole  country  to 
rise  in  arms,  and  this  is  the  chief  danger  to  be  feared," 
The  rate  of  travel  in  this  section  of  the  country, 
which  was  thickly  forested,  was  about  two  miles  an 
hour,  with  three  and  a  half  hours'  moving  each  day, 
and  ten  traveling  days  in  a  month.    The  long  stop- 


THE   MARCH   TO   THE   ATLANTIC  I33 

pages  were  due  to  sickness,  both  of  Livingstone  and 
his  men.  We  must  picture  frequent  meetings  with 
slave-dealers,  the  slaves  eight  or  nine  in  a  chain — 
natives  with  strange  habits,  such  as  filing  the  teeth 
to  a  point,  attaching  the  hair  to  a  hoop  encircHng  the 
head  so  as  to  give  it  "somewhat  the  appearance  of  the 
glory  round  the  head  of  the  Virgin" — some  who 
"never  go  anywhere  without  a  canary  in  a  cage" — 
some  who  "thrum  a  musical  instrument  the  livelong 
day,  and,  when  they  wake  at  night,  proceed  at  once 
to  their  musical  performance" — some  who  eat  white 
ants.  What  is  extraordinary  is  Livingstone's  state- 
ment that  only  once  did  he  see  a  specimen  of  quarrel- 
ing. He  adds:  "During  the  whole  period  of  my 
residence  in  the  Bechuana  country,  I  never  saw  un- 
armed men  strike  each  other.  Their  disputes  are 
usually  conducted  with  great  volubility  and  noisy 
swearing,  but  they  generally  terminate  by  both 
parties  bursting  into  a  laugh."  And  always,  outside 
of  the  slave-raiding  territory,  there  was  hospitality: 
"At  every  village  attempts  were  made  to  induce  us 
to  remain  a  night.  Sometimes  large  pots  of  beer 
were  oflFered  to  us  as  a  temptation.  Occasionally  the 
headman  would  peremptorily  order  us  to  halt  under 
a  tree  which  he  pointed  out.  At  other  times  young 
men  volunteered  to  guide  us  to  the  impassable  part  of 
the  next  bog,  in  the  hope  of  bringing  us  to  a  stand, 
for  all  are  excessively  eager  to  trade."  And  once, 
there  was  this  surprise,  as  extraordinary  as  that  dis- 
covery of  the  piece  of  steel  watch  chain,  or  as  that 
incident  told  of  by  Melville  where  the  island  chief 


134 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


gave  the  author  a  set  of  Smollett's  works,  or  as  mine, 
when  I  found  a  copy  of  Dryden's  Virgil  in  a  tin  box, 
on  a  desolate  island  olF  the  coast  of  Tierra  del  Fuego. 
For  Livingstone  had  visited  a  chief  named  Kawawa, 
and  had  been  shown  what  the  native  looked  upon  as 
great  curiosities.  Then,  as  the  rarest  of  things,  the 
old  chief  "produced  a  jug,  of  English  ware,  shaped 
like  an  old  man  holding  a  can  of  beer  in  his  hand." 

There  are  many  strange  sights  and  experiences 
recorded,  as  swift  glimpses,  in  the  Journal.  Once, 
one  of  Livingstone's  men,  resenting  w^hat  he  imagined 
to  be  impudence  on  the  part  of  a  villager,  showed  a 
tendency  to  disobey  orders;  whereupon,  without  being 
at  all  elaborate  about  it,  the  explorer  rapped  his  fol- 
lower on  the  head  with  the  butt  of  his  pistol,  and  an 
incipient  revolt  was  crushed.  Again,  a  chief  whose 
reputation  was  none  too  good,  sent  word  that  he 
wished  to  see  the  white  man,  and  a  kind  of  studied 
insult  was  in  his  message.  So  Livingstone  went  and 
found  the  native,  whose  name  was  "Lord  of  the 
Lake,"  "a  fat  jolly  fellow,  who  lamented  the  fact 
that  when  they  had  no  strangers  they  had  plenty 
of  beer  and  always  none  when  they  came."  At  the 
end  of  the  visit,  the  chief  gave  Livingstone  a  hand- 
some present  of  some  meal,  and  also  a  large  supply 
of  putrid  buffalo  flesh.  There  was  another  chief  who, 
by  way  of  impressing  the  white  man  and  getting  the 
proper  prestige,  insisted  upon  being  carried  into  and 
from  the  council  on  the  shoulders  of  one  of  his  tribe. 
There  were  tribes  skilled  in  wood  carving.  There 


THE    MARCH   TO   THE    ATLANTIC  I35 

were  others  who  made  music  their  chief  occupation. 
There  was  one  chief,  a  very  high-spirited  one,  who 
listened  to  Livingstone's  message  and  at  the  end 
signified  his  desire  to  embrace  Christianity.  But, 
he  declared,  while  he  wished  to  live  decently,  he 
would  transgress  a  little  while  longer,  and  then  live 
at  peace  with  the  world  forever  after.  Often  Living- 
stone submitted  to  the  ceremony  of  blood  brother- 
hood, the  transfusion  of  blood  being  a  sign  that  man 
and  man  were  knit  together  for  life  and  were  as  blood 
relations;  the  party  for  Livingstone's  side  of  the 
ceremony  always  being  one  of  his  men,  the  other  the 
chief  of  the  friendly  tribe.  Once,  by  accident,  the 
explorer  became  blood  relation  to  a  young  woman, 
for,  while  he  was  operating  upon  her  for  tumor,  some 
blood  spurted  into  his  eye.  The  ceremony  was 
considered  by  the  native  as  binding  as  though  it  had 
been  planned  and  intended.  In  one  entry,  Living- 
stone gives  a  full  account  of  some  curious  funeral 
obsequies  which  interested  him.  "A  person  having  \^ 
died  in  the  village,  we  could  transact  no  business 
with  the  chief  until  the  funeral  obsequies  were  fin- 
ished. These  occupy  about  four  days,  during  which 
there  is  a  constant  succession  of  dancing,  wailing, 
and  feasting.  Guns  are  fired  by  day,  and  drums 
beaten  by  night,  and  all  the  relatives,  dressed  in  fan- 
tastic caps,  keep  up  the  ceremonies  with  spirit 
proportionate  to  the  amount  of  beer  and  beef  ex- 
pended. When  there  is  a  large  expenditure,  the 
remark  is  often  made  afterwards,  'What  a  fine 


136 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


funeral  that  was!'  A  figure  consisting  chiefly  of 
feathers  and  beads  is  paraded  on  these  occasions,  and 
seems  to  be  regarded  as  an  idol." 

On  July  27th,  more  than  ten  months  after  they  left  ' 
the  Atlantic  coast,  they  came  again  to  Libonti,  the 
frontier  town  in  Sekeletu's  dominions.  The  strange 
news  of  their  return  had  preceded  them,  and  they 
were  greeted  with  wild  demonstrations  of  joy.  "The 
women  came  forth  to  meet  us,  making  their  curious 
dancing  gestures  and  loud  lulliloos.  Some  carried 
a  mat  and  stick  in  imitation  of  a  spear  and  shield. 
Others  rushed  forward  and  kissed  the  hands  and 
cheeks  of  the  different  persons  of  their  acquaintance 
among  us,  raising  such  a  dust  that  it  was  quite  a 
reUef  to  get  to  the  men  assembled  and  sitting  with 
proper  African  decorum  in  the  kotla.  We  were 
looked  upon  as  men  risen  from  the  dead,  for  the  most 
skillful  of  their  diviners  had  pronounced  us  to 
have  perished  long  ago."  Then,  after  Livingstone 
had  spoken  briefly,  came  an  infinity  of  native  elo- 
quence with  the  man  Pituane  telHng  at  great  length 
details  of  the  journey,  praising  Livingstone  and  all 
white  men,  saying  that  the  story  of  their  friend's 
fame  filled  all  men's  minds,  that  chiefs  everywhere 
had  been  conciliated;  and,  generally,  in  the  manner 
of  speakers,  leaving  the  impression  that  he  and  his 
fellows  of  the  platform  were  to  be  envied  and  ad- 
mired. And  when  Livingstone,  on  the  day  following, 
held  services,  there  were  his  veterans  all  decked  out 
in  their  best  with  the  white  European  clothes  and 


THE   MARCH  TO   THE   ATLANTIC  I37 


red  sashes  which  they  had  bought  on  the  coast, 
worshiping  and  giving  thanks,  with  their  muskets 
over  their  shoulders,  while  men,  women,  and  children 
gazed  at  them,  the  hatlabani,  or  braves,  fascinated. 
And  the  hatlabani  chanted  loud  odes  in  their  own 
praise,  not  only  at  that  place,  but  at  every  village, 
until  they  came  to  Linyanti.  There  Sekeletu  met 
[the  travelers,  and  was  very  royal,  and  very  genial; 
and  with  lofty  gestures  very  graciously  accepted  the 
presents  offered  him,  all  in  the  manner  of  monarchs 
^ince  the  ruling  of  men  first  began.  The  entire  re- 
turn journey  from  Loanda  to  Linyanti  had  taken  from 
September  20,  1854,  until  September  11,  1855,  and 
Livingstone  had  not  lost  a  man  on  the  way. 

There  was,  awaiting  the  explorer-missionary,  a  fine 
evidence  of  faithfulness  to  him.  In  the  month  of 
September,  1854,  some  natives  had  arrived  at  Lin- 
yanti, carrying  certain  packages  for  "The  Living- 
stone," which  had  been  passed  from  hand  to  hand,  as 
it  were,  originating  with  Mrs.  Moffat  down  at 
Kolobeng.  They  were  brought  in  on  the  last  stage 
by  enemies  of  the  Makololo,  who,  being  hailed  by  the 
bearers,  from  across  the  river,  had  suspected  a  ruse 
and  a  trap,  perhaps  the  delivering  of  witchcraft 
medicine.  But  the  Matabele  were  determined  to 
carry  out  their  mission,  because  of  their  love  for 
Livingstone,  so  laid  down  the  packages  on  the  river 
bank,  saying:  "Here  are  the  things;  we  place  them 
now  before  you,  and  if  you  leave  them  to  perish,  the 
guilt  will  be  yours."  Then  they  turned  away  on  their 
homeward  march.    After  a  little  while  the  Makololo, 


138 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


having  fortified  themselves  with  much  divination, 
crossed  the  river  and  secured  the  packages,  which 
they  carried  to  an  island  in  the  middle  of  the  river, 
and  there  built  a  weatherproof  hut  over  them. 
There  Livingstone  found  them  a  year  later — news- 
papers, a  letter  from  his  son,  and  a  good  supply  of 
food  prepared  by  the  capable  Mrs.  MofFat,  preserves, 
tea  and  coffee,  sugar,  and  certainly  salt,  for  Living- 
stone often  went  without  these  things  for  months. 

One  pictures  the  Makololo,  watching  the  white 
man  open  the  suspected  packages,  half  expecting  the 
enemy's  wizard's  power  to  cause  a  dire  calamity. 


CHAPTER  VII 


VICTORIA  FALLS  AND  HOME 

TWO  months  after  Livingstone's  arrival  at 
Sekeletu's  capital  there  was  a  new  excitement. 
It  was  on  the  third  day  of  November,  the  year 
1855.  A  procession  of  two  hundred  men  marched 
out  of  Linyanti,  laughing  and  chanting;  some  of 
them  carrying  burdens,  some  bearing  battle  axes  or 
spears  and  shields.  Twelve  oxen  were  in  the  train, 
laden  with  bales  of  merchandise.  There  were  others 
who  were  accompanying  the  procession  a  short  dis- 
tance by  way  of  wishing  Godspeed — important  men 
from  neighboring  tribes — the  Lebeole,  the  Ntlarie, 
the  Nkwatlele,  and  others,  some  having  come  for  the 
purpose  a  hundred  miles  and  more.  After  the  train 
had  disappeared  over  the  low-lying  hill  and  the  dust 
that  hung  suspended  in  the  air  for  a  while  had 
settled,  another  party,  some  of  them  on  horseback, 
forty  all  told,  rode  out.  And  with  them  were 
Livingstone  and  King  Sekeletu.  It  was  the  royal 
bodyguard,  this  second  party,  and  was  composed 
of  young  men,  handsome  with  their  tossing  ostrich 
plumes  and  lions'  manes,  their  weapons  and  their 
barbaric  ornaments;  beautiful  in  their  litheness;  full 
of  merriment  and  glorified  by  their  high-hearted 
happiness. 

139 


140 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


Night  overtook  the  party  just  before  they  reached 
the  tsetse  belt,  for  crossing  that  in  the  dark  was  the 
only  safe  way,  and  they  had  planned  long  and  well 
for  this  trip. 

For  Sekeletu  and  his  advisers  were  eager  for  Living- 
stone's success  to  the  end  that  a  road  might  be 
opened  eastward  to  civihzation.  "You  are  now  go- 
ing among  people  who  cannot  be  trusted  because  we 
have  used  them  badly,"  had  said  the  dignified 
Mamire,  in  council.  Then  he  had  added:  "But  you 
go  with  a  different  message  from  any  they  ever  heard 
before,  and  Jesus  will  be  with  you,  and  help  you, 
though  among  enemies;  and  if  he  carries  you  safely, 
and  brings  you  and  Ma  Robert  [Mrs.  Livingstone] 
back  again,  I  shall  say  that  he  has  bestowed  a  great 
favor  on  me.  May  we  obtain  a  path  whereby  we 
may  visit  and  be  visited  by  other  tribes,  and  by 
white  men!"  That  last  wish  became  almost  a  tribal 
prayer. 

When  the  question  of  money  came  to  be  con- 
sidered, for  Livingstone  had  told  them  of  his  poverty 
and  inability  to  pay  the  men  at  the  end  of  the  trip, 
Mamire,  who  having  married  Sekeletu's  mother,  had 
authority,  said:  "A  man  wishes,  of  course,  to  appear 
among  his  friends,  after  a  long  absence,  with  some- 
thing of  his  own  to  show."  Then,  in  a  burst  of 
generosity,  he  told  Livingstone,  the  king,  and  the 
council  this:  "The  whole  of  the  ivory  in  the  country 
is  yours,  so  you  must  take  as  much  as  you  can,  and 
Sekeletu  will  furnish  men  to  carry  it."  The  man 
was  kindness  itself,  though  he  could  unchain  a  fierce 


VICTORIA   FALLS   AND  HOME 


141 


beast  in  himself  on  occasion,  especially  against  the 
Boers.  For  he  remembered  how,  as  a  child,  when  his 
tribe  lived  south  of  the  desert,  there  had  been  a  Boer 
raid  on  his  village,  and  he  had  hidden  in  an  ant- 
eater's  hole.  But  he  was  discovered  by  a  burly  Boer, 
who  thrashed  the  lad  with  a  hippopotamus  whip 
within  an  inch  of  his  life.  Because  of  that,  he  was 
willing  to  accept  the  doctrine  of  peace  on  earth, 
except  where  it  concerned  the  Boers.  "Teach  the 
Boers  to  lay  down  their  arms  first,"  he  always  said. 
They  were  outside  the  pale  of  his  sympathy. 

But  there  were  other  things  discussed  in  Linyanti, 
besides  plans  and  prospects,  during  those  last  few 
days.  For,  with  black  men  as  with  the  white,  fact 
was  all  mixed  with  fiction,  truth  and  the  grotesque 
all  mingled.  There  were  the  credulous  and  there 
were  those  who  took  a  mischievous  delight  in  telling 
frightening  tales.  So  Livingstone  heard  of  places 
that  were  haunted.  He  was  told  of  a  narrow  place 
on  the  Chobe  River  where  lived,  under  the  water,  a 
monster  that  reached  up  to  hold  a  canoe  motionless  in 
spite  of  every  effort  made  by  the  paddlers  to  move 
it.  He  heard  of  a  pot  of  medicine  which  had  been 
buried  by  one  Sekote,  a  powerful  chief  and  magician; 
a  kind  of  Pandora's  casket  it  seemed  to  be,  for,  when 
opened,  out  would  fly  a  fearful  pestilence  to  destroy 
all  living  creatures.  He  also  heard,  with  much  de- 
tail, stories  of  a  place  called  Shongwe,  a  name  that 
might  be  supposed  to  mean  "The  Seething  Cauldron," 
out  of  which  came  Mosi-oa-Tounya,  or  "Smoke  That 
Sounds.  '    The  last  report  he  intended  to  investigate, 


142 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


the  more  because  he  had  been  told  of  the  wonder 
years  before,  when  Oswell  had  been  his  companion. 

So  he  investigated,  and  his  investigation  was  fruit- 
ful, for  ten  days'  journey  from  Linyanti,  and  the  day 
after  Sekeletu  bade  him  farewell  at  the  village  of  Ka- 
lai,  Livingstone  saw  the  strange  apparition  of  five  tall 
columns  of  vapor,  looking  like  smoke  from  great 
grass  fires.  "Bending  in  the  direction  of  the  wind, 
they  seemed  placed  against  a  low  ridge  covered  with 
trees;  the  tops  of  the  columns  at  this  distance  ap- 
peared to  mingle  with  the  clouds.  They  were  white 
below,  and  higher  up  became  dark,  so  as  to  simulate 
smoke  very  closely.  The  whole  scene  was  extremely 
beautiful;  the  banks  and  islands  .  .  .  adorned 
with  vegetation  of  great  variety  of  color  and  form." 
So  it  was  on  November  the  fourteenth  that  David 
Livingstone  discovered  one  of  the  natural  wonders 
of  the  world,  the  Victoria  Falls. 

Curious  to  see  and  to  measure,  and  daring  tre- 
mendously, because  of  the  danger  of  being  swept  over 
the  falls  by  the  current,  though  the  river  was  low, 
he  drifted  in  a  light  canoe  down  to  the  edge  of  the 
falls,  and  landed  on  an  island  in  midstream,  situated 
on  the  edge  of  the  precipice  much  as  Goat  Island  is 
hung  on  the  edge  of  Niagara.  While  in  the  canoe, 
when  a  few  yards  from  his  landing  place,  it  was  not 
possible  to  see  where  the  water  went,  for  "it  seemed 
to  lose  itself  in  the  earth,  the  opposite  Hp  of  the  fissure 
into  which  it  disappeared  being  only  eighty  feet 
distant."  Landing,  and  lying  flat  on  the  uttermost 
edge  of  the  little  island,  he  "peered  down  into  a  large 


VICTORIA   FALLS   AND  HOME 


rent  which  had  been  made  from  bank  to  bank  of  the 
broad  Zambesi,  and  saw  that  a  stream  of  a  thousand 
yards  broad  leaped  down  a  hundred  feet,  and  then 
became  suddenly  compressed  into  a  space  of  fifteen 
or  twenty  yards.  The  entire  falls  are  simply  a  crack 
made  in  a  hard  basaltic  rock  from  the  right  to  the  left 
bank  of  the  Zambesi,  and  then  prolonged  from  the 
left  bank  away  through  thirty  or  forty  miles  of  hills." 

Finding  good  soil  on  the  island,  he  returned  the 
following  day  and  planted  "about  a  hundred  peach 
and  apricot  stones,  and  a  quantity  of  coffee  seeds"  in 
the  hope  that  it  would  be  "the  parent  of  all  the  gar- 
dens which  may  yet  be  in  this  new  country."  He 
also  did  another  thing,  and  records  it  in  a  Pepysean 
spirit  of  self-accusation.  Thus:  "When  the  garden 
was  prepared,  I  cut  my  initials  on  a  tree,  and  the 
date,  1855.  This  was  the  only  instance  in  which  I 
indulged  in  this  piece  of  vanity."  Surely  the  man 
who  had  a  hazy  feeling  of  disquietude  about  so  small 
a  step  from  his  incHnations  of  self-effacement,  must 
have  touched  hands  with  the  gods. 

On  his  second  trip  to  the  falls,  in  August,  i860,  he 
took  careful  measurements  and  found  the  breadth  of 
the  Zambesi  to  be  1,860  yards.  "The  depth  of  the 
rift  was  measured  by  lowering  a  line  to  the  end 
of  which  a  few  bullets  and  a  foot  of  white  cotton  cloth 
were  tied.  One  of  us  lay  with  his  head  over  a  pro- 
jecting crag,  and  watched  the  descending  caUco,  till, 
after  his  companions  had  paid  out  310  feet,  the 
weight  rested  on  a  sloping  projection,  probably  50 
feet  from  the  water  below,  the  actual  bottom  being 


144 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


Still  further  down.  The  white  cloth  now  appeared 
the  size  of  a  crown  piece.  On  measuring  the  width 
of  this  deep  cleft  by  sextant,  it  was  found  at  Garden 
Island,  its  narrowest  part,  to  be  eighty  yards,  and 
at  its  broadest,  somewhat  more.  Into  this  chasm,  of 
twice  the  depth  of  Niagara  Falls,  the  river,  a  full 
mile  wide,  rolls  with  a  deafening  roar."  As  for  the 
channel  below  the  falls,  Livingstone  describes  it  as 
if  we  should  imagine  "the  trough  below  Niagara 
were  bent  right  and  left  several  times  before  it 
reached  the  railroad  bridge."* 

On  the  occasion  of  the  second  visit  to  the  Victoria 
Falls,  Livingstone  took  occasion  to  explore  the 
promontories  below  the  falls,  made  by  the  zigzag 
river  course,  and  on  the  second  angular  strip  of  high 
land  found  a  mystery.  It  was  "a  broad  rhinoceros 
path  and  a  hut:  but,  unless  the  builder  were  a  her- 
mit with  a  pet  rhinoceros,  we  cannot  conceive  what 
beast  or  man  ever  went  there  for." 

Summing  up  Livingstone's  description  of  the  Zam- 
besi and  the  falls,  we  gain  an  idea  of  a  broad  river 
above  the  precipice,  smoothly  flowing  because  the 
incline  is  gentle,  looking  somewhat  like  an  island- 
dotted  lake,  with  coconut  trees  growingon  the  islands. 
It  is  evident  that  there  was  no  great  current  at  the 

*In  the  year  1863,  Sir  Richard  Glyn  and  his  brother,  being  on  a  hunting 
expedition,  went  to  Garden  Island  and  found  that  the  trees  planted  by 
Livingstone  had  been  destroyed  by  hippopotami.  It  is  pleasant  to  know 
that  Sir  Richard  deepened,  carefully,  the  initials 

D.  L. 

1855 

on  the  tree  which  Livingstone  regretted  having  marred. 


I 


VICTORIA   FALLS   AND   HOME  I45 

time  Livingstone  visited  it;  otherwise,  he  could  not 
have  reached  the  island  called  "The  Garden,"  from 
which  he  took  his  measurements.  That  island, 
which  was  thickly  covered  with  vegetation,  cuts  the 
falls  into  two  portions,  one  of  which,  according  to 
Reclus,  is  1,858  yards  wide,  the  other  546  yards 
wide.  The  ten  columns  of  mist  or  vapor  which  give 
the  native  name  of  Mosi-oa-Tounya,  "Smoke  That 
Sounds"  to  the  falls  are  caused  by  ten  rocky  pro- 
jections at  the  foot  of  the  falls,  rocks  of  black  basalt, 
upon  which  the  water  dashes.  Baines,  in  his  Ex- 
ploration of  Southeast  Africa,  says  that  the  mist 
columns  rise  to  a  height  of  1,000  or  1,150  feet. 

Of  the  river  below  the  falls,  with  its  curiously 
crooked  channel,  there  is  this  in  the  second  volume 
of  the  Journal:  "Looking  from  Garden  Island  down 
to  the  bottom  of  the  abyss,  nearly  half  a  mile  of  water 
which  has  fallen  over  that  portion  of  our  falls  to  the 
right,  or  west  of  our  point  of  view,  is  seen  collected  in 
a  narrow  channel  twenty  or  thirty  yards  wide,  and 
flowing  at  exactly  right  angles  to  its  previous  course, 
to  our  left;  while  the  other  half,  or  that  which  fell 
over  the  eastern  portion  of  the  falls,  is  seen  in  the 
left  of  the  narrow  channel  below,  coming  toward 
our  right.  Both  waters  unite  midway,  in  a  fearful 
boiling  whirlpool,  and  find  an  outlet  by  a  crack 
situated  at  right  angles  to  the  fissure  of  the  falls. 
This  outlet  is  1,170  yards  from  the  western  end  of 
the  chasm  and  some  600  from  its  eastern  end;  the 
whirlpool  is  at  its  commencement.  The  Zambesi, 
now  apparently  not  more  than  twenty  or  thirty 


146 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


yards  wide,  rushes  and  surges  south,  through  the 
narrow  escape  channel  for  a  hundred  and  thirty 
yards;  then  enters  the  second  chasm  somewhat 
deeper,  and  nearly  parallel  with  the  first.  Abandon- 
ing the  bottom  of  the  eastern  half  of  this  second 
chasm  to  the  growth  of  large  trees,  it  turns  sharply 
off  to  the  west,  and  forms  a  promontory,  with  the 
escape  channel  at  its  point,  of  1,170  yards  long,  and 
four  hundred  and  sixteen  at  its  base.  After  reaching 
this  base  the  river  runs  abruptly  round  the  head  of 
another  promontory,  and  flows  away  to  the  east,  in 
the  third  chasm;  then  glides  around  the  third  prom- 
ontory, much  narrower  than  the  rest,  and  away  back 
to  the  west,  in  a  fourth  chasm;  and  we  could  see  in  the 
distance  that  it  appeared  to  round  still  another 
promontory,  and  then  once  more  in  another  chasm 
toward  the  east.  In  this  gigantic,  zigzag,  yet  narrow 
trough,  the  rocks  are  all  so  sharply  cut  and  angular 
that  the  idea  at  once  arises  that  the  hard  basaltic 
trap  must  have  been  riven  into  its  present  shape  by 
a  force  acting  from  beneath,  and  that  this  probably 
took  place  when  the  ancient  inland  seas  were  let  off 
by  similar  fissures  nearer  the  ocean.  .  .  .  The 
land  beyond,  or  on  the  south  of  the  falls,  retains, 
as  already  remarked,  the  same  level  as  before  the 
rent  was  made.  It  is  as  if  the  trough  below  Niagara 
were  bent  right  and  left  several  times  before  it 
reached  the  railway  bridge.  The  land  in  the  sup- 
posed bends  being  of  the  same  height  as  that  above 
the  fall,  would  give  standing  places,  or  points  of 
view,  of  the  same  nature  as  that  from  the  railway 


VICTORIA   FALLS   AND  HOME 


(Niagara)  bridge;  but  the  nearest  would  be  only 
eighty  yards,  instead  of  two  miles  (the  distance  to 
the  bridge),  from  the  face  of  the  cascade.  The  tops 
of  the  promontories  are  in  general  flat,  smooth,  and 
studded  with  trees.  The  first,  with  its  base  to  the 
east,  is  at  one  place  so  narrow  that  it  would  be 
dangerous  to  walk  to  its  extremity." 

This  also  is  interesting,  as  written  by  Charles 
Livingstone:  "Among  the  first  questions  asked  by 
Sebituane  of  Mr.  Oswell  and  Dr.  Livingstone,  in 
1 85 1,  was  'Have  you  any  smoke-soundings  in  your 
country?'  and  'What  causes  the  smoke  to  rise  for 
ever  so  high  out  of  water  ? '  In  that  year  its  fame  was 
heard  two  hundred  miles  off,  and  it  was  approached 
within  two  days;  but  it  was  seen  by  no  European  till 
1855,  when  Dr.  Livingstone  visited  it  on  his  way  to 
the  east  coast.  Being  then  accompanied  as  far  as 
the  fall  by  Sekeletu  and  two  hundred  followers, 
his  stay  was  necessarily  short;  and  the  two  days  there 
were  employed  in  observations  for  fixing  the  geo- 
graphical position  of  the  place,  and  turning  the 
showers,  that  at  times  sweep  in  columns  of  vapor 
across  the  island,  to  account  in  teaching  the  Makololo 
arboriculture,  and  making  that  garden  from  which 
the  natives  named  the  island.  .  .  .  Before 
leaving  the  most  wonderful  falls  in  the  world,  one 
may  be  excused  for  referring  to  the  fact  that,  though 
they  had  produced  a  decided  impression  on  the 
native  mind  in  the  interior,  no  intelligence  of  their 
existence  ever  reached  the  Portuguese.  About  1809 
two  black  slaves,  named  Pedro  Baptista  and  Andre 


148 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


Jose,  were  sent  from  Cassange,  a  village  three  hun- 
dred miles  from  the  west  coast,  through  the  country 
of  Cazembe,  to  Tette,  nearly  an  equal  distance  from 
the  east  coast.  A  lady  now  living  at  Tette,  Donna 
Eugenia,  remembers  distinctly  these  slaves — their 
woolly  hair  dressed  in  the  Loanda  fashion — arriving 
and  remaining  at  Tette  till  letters  came  from  the 
governor  general  at  Mozambique,  which  they  suc- 
cessfully carried  back  to  Cassange.  On  this  slender 
fiber  hangs  all  the  Portuguese  pretensions  of  having 
possessed  a  road  across  Africa.  Their  maps  show 
the  course  of  the  Zambesi  S.  S.  W.  of  Zumbo,  about 
where  the  Falls  were  found;  and  on  this  very  question- 
able authority,  an  untraveled  English  map-maker, 
with  most  amusing  assurance,  asserts  that  the  river 
above  the  Falls  runs  under  the  Kalahari  desert  and 
is  lost.  .  .  .  The  ground  is  strewn  with  agates 
for  ja  number  of  miles  above  the  Falls;  but  the  fires, 
which  burn  off  the  grass  yearly,  have  injured  most 
of  those  on  the  surface." 

As  stated  above  by  Charles  Livingstone,  the  ex- 
plorer remained  at  the  falls  only  two  days,  and  when 
his  party  pushed  onward,  Sekeletu  and  the  escorting 
party  returned  to  Linyanti. 

Now  and  then,  on  the  march,  there  were  discoveries 
of  ancient  civilizations,  or  attempts  at  civilization, 
as  astonishing  surely  as  when  one  comes  upon  the 
troglodyte  dwellings  in  Cappadocia,  or  sights  for  the 
first  time  one  of  those  ruined  temples  in  parts  of 
Central  America.  In  one  case,  there  is  mention  of 
their  passing  "a  very  large  town,  which,  from  the 


VICTORIA   FALLS   AND   HOME  I49 

only  evidence  of  antiquity  alForded  by  ruins  in  this 
country,  must  have  been  inhabited  for  a  long  period; 
the  millstones  of  gneiss,  trap,  and  quartz  were  worn 
down  two  and  a  half  inches  perpendicularly."  There 
were  also  gravestones  of  ivory,  rotted  away.  And  on 
the  14th  of  January,  1856,  there  was  a  discovery  of 
stone  ruins  and  in  the  jungle  tangle  "the  remains 
of  a  church,  and  on  one  side  lay  a  broken  bell,  with 
the  letters  1.  H.  S.  and  a  cross,  but  no  date.  There 
were  no  inscriptions  on  stone,  and  the  people  could 
not  tell  what  the  Bazunga  called  their  place.  We 
found  afterwards  it  was  Zumbo."  That  was  in  lat. 
I5°37'22"S.,  long.  30°32'E. 

Doubtless  it  was  an  abandoned  Jesuit  colony  or 
mission,  and  the  sight  of  it  gave  the  explorer- 
missionary  "some  turmoil  of  spirit  ...  at  the 
prospect  of  having  all  efforts  for  the  welfare  of  this 
great  region  and  its  teeming  population  knocked  on 
the  head  by  savages  to-morrow  who  might  be  said 
to  'know  not  what  they  do.'  It  seemed  such  a  pity 
that  the  important  fact  of  the  existence  of  the  two 
healthy  ridges  which  I  had  discovered  should  not  be 
known  to  Christendom,  for  a  confirmation  would 
thereby  have  been  given  to  the  idea  that  Africa  is 
now  open  to  the  Gospel." 

Two  weeks  after  that  they  touched  the  fringe  of 
civilization  in  a  way,  for  on  the  first  day  of  February 
there  came  to  the  camp  a  couple  of  native  traders, 
primitive  pack  men,  who  spread  out  their  goods  and 
displayed  Massachusetts-made  calico,  marked: 

"LAWRENCE  MILLS,  LOWELL." 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


So  Livingstone  bought  liberally  for  his  half-naked 
men,  and  paid  with  ivory.  But  although  there  were 
signs  of  touching  the  edges  of  commerce,  the  natives 
were  hberal  and  hospitable,  as,  indeed,  he  had  found 
them  almost  everywhere.  "The  real  politeness  with 
which  food  is  given  by  nearly  all  the  interior  tribes, 
who  have  not  had  much  intercourse  with  Europeans," 
he  writes,  "  makes  it  a  pleasure  to  accept.  Again  and 
again  I  have  heard  an  apology  made  for  the  smallness 
of  the  present,  or  regret  expressed  that  they  had  not 
received  notice  of  my  approach  in  time  to  grind 
more,  and  generally  they  readily  accepted  our  ex- 
cuse at  having  nothing  to  give  in  return  by  saying 
that  they  were  quite  aware  that  there  are  no  white 
men's  goods  in  the  interior." 

Livingstone  heaped  his  scorn  on  the  heads  of  those 
of  his  own  race  and  color  who  boasted  of  the  ease 
with  which  they  hoodwinked  the  natives,  giving 
them  nothing  in  return  for  much,  and  calling  it  trade- 
gains.  "How  some  men  can  offer  three  buttons,  or 
some  other  equally  contemptible  gift,  while  they  have 
abundance  intheir  possession, is  to  me  unaccountable. 
They  surely  do  not  know,  when  they  write  it  in  their 
books,  that  they  are  declaring  they  have  compromised 
the  honor  of  Englishmen.  The  people  receive  the 
offering  with  a  degree  of  shame,  and  ladies  may  be 
seen  to  hand  it  quickly  to  the  attendants,  and,  when 
they  retire,  laugh  until  the  tears  stand  in  their  eyes, 
saying  to  those  about  them,  *Is  that  a  white  man? 
Then  there  are  niggards  among  them,  too.  Some  of 
them  are  born  without  hearts!'    One  white  trader, 


VICTORIA    FALLS    AND    HOME  I5I 

having  presented  an  old  gun  to  a  chief,  became  a 
standing  joke  in  the  tribe:  'The  white  man  who  made 
a  present  of  a  gun  that  was  new  when  his  grandfather 
was  sucking  his  great-grandmother.'  When  these 
tricks  are  repeated,  the  natives  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  people  who  show  such  a  want  of  sense 
must  be  told  their  duty;  they  therefore  let  them  know 
what  they  ought  to  give,  and  travelers  then  complain 
of  being  pestered  with  their  'shameless  begging.'  I 
was  troubled  by  importunity  on  the  confines  of 
civilization  only,  and  when  I  first  came  to  Africa." 
There  is  evidence  of  something  we  might  have  in- 
ferred: that  Livingstone's  sense  of  fair  play  was  not 
limited  to  the  ordinary  situation.  His  ethics  was 
disinterested  and  his  mind  flexible. 

As  for  Livingstone's  conduct  toward  those  who 
hadn't  that  sense  of  fair  play,  and  who  invaded  the 
rights  of  others,  there  is  recorded  in  the  Journal  an 
interesting  example.  Between  village  and  village, 
the  headmen  generally  furnished  guides,  and  some- 
times, on  long  marches  over  not  too  difficult  country, 
guides  were  hired.  "One  of  our  guides  was  an  in- 
veterate talker,  always  stopping  and  asking  for  pay, 
that  he  might  go  on  with  a  merry  heart.  I  thought 
that  he  led  us  in  the  most  difficult  paths  in  order  to 
make  us  feel  his  value,  for,  after  passing  through  one 
thicket  after  another,  we  always  came  into  the  bed 
of  the  Nake  again,  and  as  that  was  full  of  coarse 
sand,  and  the  water  only  ankle  deep,  and  as  hot  as  a 
footbath  from  the  powerful  rays  of  the  sun,  we  were 
all  completely  tired  out.    He  likewise  gave  us  a  bad 


152  DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 

character  at  every  village  we  passed,  calling  to  them 
that  they  were  to  allow  him  to  lead  us  astray,  as  we 
were  a  bad  lot.  Sekwebu  knew  every  word  he  said, 
and,  as  he  became  intolerable,  I  dismissed  him,  giving 
him  six  feet  of  calico  I  had  bought  from  native 
traders,  and  telling  him  that  his  tongue  was  a  nuis- 
ance. It  is  in  general  best,  when  a  scolding  is  neces- 
sary, to  give  it  in  combination  with  a  present,  and 
then  end  it  with  good  wishes.  This  fellow  went  off 
smihng,  and  my  men  remarked,  'His  tongue  is  cured 
now.'" 

Following  down  the  course  of  the  Zambesi,  the 
rate  of  march  was  ten  or  twelve  miles  a  day.  The 
atmosphere  of  the  valley  was  heavy  with  moisture. 
We  have  a  notion  of  the  explorer's  physical  distress 
from  occasional  scattered  remarks.  "I  drank  less 
than  the  natives,  but  all  my  clothing  was  constantly 
damp  from  the  moisture  which  was  imbibed  from 
every  pond.  One  does  not  stay  on  these  occasions 
to  prepare  water  with  alum  or  anything  else,  but 
drinks  any  amount  without  fear.  I  never  felt  the 
atmosphere  so  steamy  as  on  the  low-lying  lands  of  the 
Zambesi.  .  .  .  Pedestrianism  may  be  all  very 
well  for  those  whose  obesity  requires  much  exercise, 
but  for  one  who  was  becoming  as  thin  as  a  lath, 
through  the  constant  perspiration  caused  by  march- 
ing day  after  day  in  the  hot  sun,  the  only  good  I  saw 
in  it  was  that  it  gave  an  honest  sort  of  man  a  vivid 
idea  of  the  treadmill.  .  ,  .  As  we  sometimes 
pushed  aside  the  masses  of  rank  vegetation  which 
hung  over  our  path,  we  felt  a  sort  of  hot  blast  on  our 


VICTORIA   FALLS   AND   HOME  I53 

faces."  Long  before  they  reached  the  edge  of  the 
country  which  had  connections  with  the  settlement 
of  Tette,  their  commissariat  had  run  low  and  game 
was  scarce,  so  that  they  were  reduced  to  the  eating 
of  roots  and  wild  honey. 

Eight  miles  from  Tette,  knowing  that  his  responsi- 
bilities for  the  safety  of  those  with  him  were  nearly 
at  an  end,  the  man  of  unwearying  industry  and  all- 
embracing  sympathy  suddenly  became  conscious  of 
his  own  weakness.  It  was  the  evening  of  March  2, 
1856,  and  a  two-hours'  march  would  mean  the  ease 
and  comfort  of  border  civilization.  But  it  would  also 
mean  a  tremendous  expenditure  of  energy  in  the  way 
of  greeting  and  of  adaptation  to  an  unaccustomed 
environment.  So  Livingstone,  desiring  rest  more 
than  anything  else,  flung  himself  down  to  sleep. 
His  men  begged  him  to  go  on,  for  they  were  eager  for 
the  excitements  of  a  white  man's  place.  But  the 
master  refused.  He  was  enjoying  perfect  tran- 
quillity under  the  stars.  In  the  end,  he  sent  forward 
the  most  eager  of  his  men  with  a  letter  to  the  Com- 
mandant, Major  Tito  Augusto  d'Araujo  Sicard,  and 
gave  himself  up  to  sound  repose.  Then,  at  two  in 
the  morning,  there  came  to  the  camp  two  officers 
and  a  company  of  soldiers,  and  the  officer  who  sent 
them  had  not  forgotten  to  send  food.  "It  was  the 
most  refreshing  breakfast  I  ever  partook  of,  and  I 
walked  the  last  eight  miles  without  the  least  feeling 
of  weariness,  although  the  path  was  so  rough  that  one 
of  the  officers  remarked  to  me,  'This  is  enough  to 
tear  a  man's  hfe  out  of  him.'    The  pleasure  experi- 


154 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


enced  in  partaking  of  that  breakfast  was  only  equaled 
by  the  enjoyment  of  Mr.  Gabriel's  bed  on  my  arrival 
at  Loanda.  It  was  also  enhanced  by  the  news  that 
Sebastopol  had  fallen  and  the  war  was  finished." 

For  twenty  days  Livingstone  and  his  men  stayed  in 
the  Portuguese  settlement.  After  the  first  day,  in 
which  whites  and  natives  interrogated  him  curiously, 
wondering  at  what  he  told,  there  were  little  expedi- 
tions to  points  of  interest  in  the  surrounding  country. 
Tette  he  found  only  passably  prosperous,  taking  into 
consideration  the  natural  wealth  all  about,  but  other 
Portuguese  settlements  he  saw  were  in  deplorable 
state,  mean  and  wretched  colonies  in  which  the  slave- 
owning  whites  had  become  parasitic,  and  which  were 
almost  abandoned,  as  far  as  financial  support  was 
concerned,  by  the  mother  country.  "It  is  impossible 
to  describe  the  miserable  state  of  decay  into  which 
the  Portuguese  possessions  have  sunk,"  he  writes. 
"The  revenues  are  not  equal  to  the  expenses,  and 
every  officer  I  met  told  the  same  tale,  that  he  had 
not  received  one  farthing  of  pay  for  the  last  four 
years.  ...  If  the  Portuguese  really  wish  to 
develop  the  resources  of  the  rich  country  beyond 
their  possessions,  they  ought  to  invite  the  coopera- 
tion of  other  nations  on  equal  terms  with  themselves. 
Let  the  pathway  into  the  interior  be  free  for  all;  and, 
instead  of  wretched  forts,  with  scarcely  an  acre  of 
land  around  them  which  can  be  called  their  own,  let 
real  colonies  be  made.  If,  instead  of  military  estab- 
lishments, we  had  civil  ones,  and  saw  emigrants  going 
out  with  their  wives,  plows,  and  seeds,  rather  than 


VICTORIA   FALLS    AND  HOME 


military  convicts  with  bugles  and  kettledrums,  we 
might  hope  for  a  return  of  prosperity  to  Eastern 
Africa."  There  spoke  the  man  who  saw  a  vision  of 
a  fair  and  wide  Hfe  through  industry;  who  saw  a 
right  education  of  a  people  through  discipHne;  who 
saw  death  by  parasitism  for  those  who  thought  to 
hve  in  luxury  and  ease  on  the  labor  of  others.  And 
he  spoke  as  he  thought,  though  those  whom  he  chided 
were  his  hosts  and  entertainers. 

It  was  the  twentieth  day  of  May,  1856,  before  the 
party  reached  the  little  port  of  Quilimane  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Zambesi.  The  journey  from  Linyanti 
had  taken  more  than  half  a  year,  and,  since  his  first 
setting  foot  in  Africa,  David  Livingstone  had  walked, 
or  ridden  on  ox  back,  and  chiefly  through  unexplored 
country,  more  than  eleven  thousand  miles,  without 
counting  what  might  be  called  side  excursions  made 
from  the  main  line  of  travel. 

But  at  last  he  was  homeward  bound.  He  saw  his 
followers  and  attendants  comfortably  settled  on 
lands  adjacent  to  Quilimane  where  they  would  wait 
until  his  promised  return.  He  sold  the  greater  part 
of  the  ivory  given  to  him  by  Sekeletu,  and,  with  the 
proceeds,  paid  his  men  and  purchased  necessities, 
which  he  sent  back  to  the  Makololo  king.  Twenty 
tusks,  not  sold,  he  placed  in  safety  until  his  return; 
and  with  instructions  that  in  case  of  his  death  they 
should  be  sold  and  the  proceeds  dehvered  to  his 
followers  and  aids.  So,  his  house  set  in  order,  he 
boarded  the  Frolic  for  England. 

"I  felt  myself  at  home  in  everything  except  my 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


native  tongue.  I  seemed  to  know  the  language  per- 
fectly, but  the  words  I  wanted  would  not  come  at 
my  call.  When  I  left  England  I  had  no  intention  of 
returning,  and  directed  my  attention  earnestly  to  the 
languages  of  Africa,  paying  none  to  English  com- 
position. With  the  exception  of  a  short  interval  in 
Angola,  I  had  been  three  and  a  half  years  without 
speaking  English,  and  this,  with  thirteen  years  of 
previous  partial  disuse  of  my  native  tongue,  made 
me  feel  sadly  at  loss  on  board  the  Frolic."  And  in 
the  Journals  not  a  word  of  loneliness. 

But  the  passage  quoted  has  more  than  casual  value 
and  meaning.  For  perhaps  I  have  not  sufficiently 
emphasized  that  Livingstone,  in  his  intercourse  with 
many  kinds  of  natives  of  various  tribes,  did  not  de- 
pend upon  those  contortions  and  silly  meaningless 
gestures  that  some  travelers  call  sign  language.  On 
the  contrary,  he  says,  again  and  again,  that  trouble 
with  natives  often  arises  from  misunderstanding, 
and  the  inability  to  converse.  Time  after  time  he  re- 
cords instances  where  potential  trouble  was  averted, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  Chiboque,  by  talking  the  matter 
over.  In  that  case,  it  is  abundantly  clear  that  a 
disastrous  cloud  was  gathering,  but,  as  the  entry 
reads:  "I  sat  on  my  camp-stool,  with  my  double- 
barreled  gun  across  my  knees,  and  invited  the  chief 
to  be  seated  also.  When  he  and  his  counselors  had 
sat  down  on  the  ground  in  front  of  me,  I  asked  what 
crime  we  had  committed  that  he  had  come  armed  in 
that  way."  So  he  opened  the  safety  valve  for  ill 
humors.    The  account  goes  on  for  a  couple  of  pages, 


VICTORIA   FALLS   AND  HOME 


telling  how  this  one  and  that  expressed  an  opinion, 
or  gave  reasons,  or  gave  vent  to  emotions  in  a  lengthy 
speech.  But  all  the  time  anger  was  evaporating. 
You  see  Livingstone  cool  and  self-possessed,  but  by- 
no  means  bhnd  to  perilous  reahties  in  front  and  in  the 
rear  and  on  both  sides;  but,  what  is  extraordinary, 
you  quite  forget  that  negotiations  are  being  carried 
on  in  a  foreign  tongue  with  the  white  man  quite  com- 
fortably articulate,  concentrating  on  the  different 
speakers'  words  and  meanwhile  very  profitably 
forming  estimates  of  the  character  and  abilities  and 
mental  processes  of  those  about  him.  Remembering 
all  that,  some  notion  is  gained  of  the  tremendous  diffi- 
culties he  overcame  before  he  was  able  to  make  him- 
self so  plainly  understood.  For,  as  he  passed  through 
this  territory  or  that,  he  always  made  it  a  point 
to  converse  with  the  natives  in  their  own  tongues, 
to  learn  their  ways  and  customs,  if  at  all  possible, 
and  it  generally  was,  so  as  to  come  to  an  under- 
standing of  their  beliefs  and  superstitions.  Remem- 
bering also  that  each  tribe  had  a  different  dialect, 
more  and  more  it  becomes  clear  that  his  task  was 
tremendous;  and,  what  is  more,  that  his  intellectual 
grasp  and  ability  are  something  to  wonder  at.  Yet, 
in  the  Journals  written  from  day  to  day,  there  is  not 
a  single  mention  of  this  matter  which  he  considered 
the  main  stream.  Only  one  passage  hints  at  it,  and 
from  that  we  infer  that  he  made  a  careful  study  of 
the  roots  of  the  words  of  the  different  dialects  and 
came  to  a  conclusion  which  would  have  delighted 
Max  Miiller  or  Herbert  Spencer,  which  was  that  all 


158 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


the  dialects  grew  out  of  two  original  languages,  and 
that  their  differences  indicate  migrations. 

To  go  back  to  the  story:  Two  of  the  natives, 
Sekwebu  the  faithful,  and  his  friend,  begged  to  be 
allowed  to  go  to  England.  But  Livingstone  knew 
himself  able  to  afford  to  take  one  only,  and  he 
chose  Sekwebu.  To  the  other,  he  had  said,  trying 
to  dissuade  him  with  kindness,  "You  will  die  if  you 
go  to  such  a  cold  country  as  mine."  But,  "That  is 
nothing,"  replied  the  native.  "Let  me  die  at  your 
feet."  In  the  end,  only  Sekwebu  was  allowed  to  go. 
But  he  never  saw  England.  When  they  reached  the 
Mauritius,  August  12,  1856,  the  bewildered  native 
went  insane  and  committed  suicide  in  most  ex- 
traordinary manner.  Livingstone,  perhaps  in  tribute 
to  his  colored  friend,  whom  he  greatly  admired  and 
loved,  ends  his  book,  Missionary  Travels,  with  an 
account  of  the  affair,  and  it  would  be  an  ungracious 
thing  to  do  other  than  tell  the  tale  in  the  explorer's 
words. 

He  writes:  "The  constant  strain  on  his  untu- 
tored mind  seemed  now  to  reach  a  climax,  for  dur- 
ing the  night  he  became  insane.  I  thought  at  first 
that  he  was  intoxicated.  He  had  descended  into  a 
boat,  and,  when  I  attempted  to  go  down  and  bring 
him  into  the  ship,  he  ran  to  the  stem  and  said,' No! 
No!  It  is  enough  that  I  should  die  alone!  You 
must  not  perish;  if  you  come  I  shall  throw  myself 
into  the  water.'  Perceiving  that  his  mind  was  af- 
fected, I  said,  'Now,  Sekwebu,  we  are  going  to  Ma 


VICTORIA   FALLS    AND  HOME 


Robert.'  This  struck  a  chord  in  his  bosom,  and  he 
said,  'Oh,  yes;  where  is  she?  And  where  is  Robert?' 
and  seemed  to  recover.  The  officers  proposed  to 
secure  him  by  putting  him  in  irons;  but,  being  a 
gentleman  in  his  own  country,  I  objected,  knowing 
that  the  insane  often  retain  an  impression  of  ill  treat- 
ment, and  I  could  not  bear  to  have  itsaid  in  Sekeletu's 
country  that  I  had  chained  one  of  his  principal  men 
as  they  had  seen  slaves  treated.  I  tried  to  get  him 
on  shore  by  day,  but  he  refused.  In  the  evening  a 
fresh  accession  of  insanity  occurred;  he  tried  to  spear 
one  of  the  crew,  then  leaped  overboard,  and,  though 
he  could  swim  well,  pulled  himself  down,  hand  under 
hand,  by  the  chain  cable.  We  never  found  the  body 
of  poor  Sekwebu." 

We  picture  Livingstone  resting  for  a  month  and 
overflowing  with  joy  and  thankfulness,  the  guest  of 
Governor  General  Hay  in  the  Mauritius.  We  see 
him,  after  that,  quiet  but  full  of  the  thorough  happi- 
ness that  comes  from  the  knowledge  of  a  game  well 
played,  on  the  deck  of  the  P.  &  O.  steamer  that  car- 
ried him  by  way  of  the  Mediterranean  to  Marseilles. 
Already  the  fatigues  and  the  dangers  of  his  African 
expedition  were,  to  some  extent,  thrust  aside  and  half 
forgotten,  for  a  vigorous  and  adventurous  mood  was 
growing  within  him.  For,  like  all  men  who  have 
Hved  away  from  civilization  for  any  length  of  time, 
he  was  out  of  touch  with  things;  that  which  occupied 
the  minds  of  most  men  must  have  seemed  trivial  to 
the  point  of  worthlessness;  the  very  necessary  ameni- 
ties of  intercourse  must  have  seemed  odd,  even  soul- 


i6o 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


Stunting  after  the  individual  directness  of  the  primi- 
tive man.  The  activities  of  cities  must  have  seemed 
grotesque  to  the  man  who  had  known  sun-scorched 
years  in  a  land  of  wild  beasts  and  torturing  insects. 
For  the  man  of  Spartan  disciphne,  the  cushioned 
seats  of  trains,  the  pageantry  and  show  of  Paris,  the 
shackles  and  restraints  of  society  must  have  con- 
trasted oddly  and  unpleasantly  with  the  primal 
forces  and  bright  dangers  that  he  had  known  for  so 
long.  But,  because  of  that  immense  breadth  of 
experience,  he  was  easily  capable  of  swift  adaptation 
to  the  new  environment.  So  we  see  him  crossing 
France,  and  living  quietly  in  hotels,  a  man  unnoticed. 

Of  his  personal  appearance  at  the  time,  we  have  an 
excellent  pen  picture  drawn  by  an  unidentified  writei* 
in  the  Nonconformist.  "A  foreign-looking  person, 
plainly  and  rather  carelessly  dressed,  of  middle  height, 
bony  frame  and  Gaelic  countenance,  with  short- 
cropped  hair  and  mustache  and  generally  plain  ex- 
terior. His  face  is  deeply  furrowed  and  well  tanned. 
.  .  ,  .  Unanimated,  its  most  characteristic  ex- 
pression is  that  of  severity.  .  .  I  have  been 
unable  to  find  any  reference  to  his  arrival  in  the  Paris 
papers  of  the  day.  Perhaps  France  knew  nothing  of 
him,  for  the  French  mind  was  occupied  with  the  de- 
tails of  the  meeting  of  the  French  Em.peror  and  the 
Czar  of  Russia.  At  Southampton,  Mary  his  wife 
was  waiting  for  him,  and  they  went  to  London  at 
once. 

Then  dull,  stolid  England,  so  occupied  with  com- 
merce and  invention  and  colonization,  so  submerged 


VICTORIA   FALLS   AND   HOME  l6l 

in  its  little  businesses  and  its  politics — England  of 
no  very  passionate  emotions  suddenly  realized  that  in 
its  midst  was  a  man  to  deserve  admiration  and  respect 
and  more.  One  of  her  sons,  an  unconsidered  one, 
had  renounced  all  for  which  most  men  strive,  and 
now  stood  before  her,  an  heroic  figure.  So  London 
of  December  the  ninth  forgot  to  talk  of  its  current 
sensations;  of  Belfast  religious  riots;  and  how  the 
jewels  of  a  countess  had  been  stolen  from  a  cab-top; 
and  what  Parliament  was  going  to  do;  and  what  a 
wife-murderer  had  said  when  he  paid  the  price  of  his 
crime  at  the  Old  Bailey.  For  a  new  tale  rang  from 
London  to  John  o'Groats,  and  from  John  o'Groats  to 
Land's  End.  And  there  were  sermons,  and  articles, 
and  editorials,  and  pamphlets.  Great  Britain's  mil- 
lions were,  for  a  moment,  the  better  and  the  nobler 
because  of  one  man's  patient  industry  and  deter- 
mination. For  a  flash  of  time  strength  was  developed 
in  others  because  of  one  man's  character.  For  a 
while,  to  the  doubtful  and  the  wavering  he  was  a 
source  of  courage.  Men  were  more  intellectually 
alive  because  he  had  shown  what  an  active  mind  and 
calm  courage  could  do.  Because  he  had  fought  and 
conquered,  there  were  others  spurred  to  noble  action. 
Some  were  merely  amazed  and  astonished  and  pleased 
to  have  something  to  chatter  about,  but  a  few  saw  a 
glorious  vision  and  thenceforth  held  a  new  ideal. 

In  our  enthusiasm  for  Livingstone's  personal  quali- 
ties and  achievements  we  must  not  forget  and  lead 
others  to  overlook,  his  definite,  concrete  achieve- 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


ments  as  a  scientist.  The  results  of  this  first  period 
of  exploration  alone  were  enormous.  His  data  re- 
constructed, or,  rather,  constructed  the  map  of  Cen- 
tral Africa,  and  his  contributions  to  national  history 
were  many  and  genuine. 

And  it  must  be  remembered  that  Livingstone  was 
not  the  man  to  take  applause  to  himself,  forgetting  that 
there  were  others  who  had  labored  to  solve  the  riddle 
of  Africa  and  its  peoples.  Indeed,  in  his  addresses, 
he  was  eager  to  recall  the  work  of  those  others:  of 
the  resolute  Captain  Stubbs  who  had  sailed  up  the 
Gambia  when  other  men  were  money-mad  in  the  days 
of  the  South  Sea  bubble;  of  his  fellow  Scot,  James 
Bruce,  who  had  dared  greatly  in  Abyssinia  a  hundred 
years  before;  of  Mungo  Park,  whose  tragedy  was 
never  told;  of  James  Richardson,  who  explored  the 
Sahara  in  1845;  of  the  courageous  Dr.  Barth,  who  re- 
turned like  one  risen  from  the  dead.  Livingstone, 
honorable  and  chivalrous  soul  that  he  was,  insisted 
that  others  should  share  the  honors  thrust  upon  him. 

But  those  honors  he  could  not  escape,  little  as  he 
desired  them,  much  as  he  would  have  chosen  to 
dwell  in  modest  retirement.  The  Queen  wanted  to 
see  and  to  talk  with  him,  and  did.  The  Royal 
Geographical  Society  presented  him  with  the  Patrons' 
Gold  Medal.  Admirers  met  at  the  Mansion  House, 
on  February  5,  1857,  and  a  Livingstone  Testimonial 
Fund  was  suggested.  Before  the  meeting  adjourned, 
a  sum  of  $2,200  was  guaranteed,  and  in  a  few  days  it 
grew  to  $6,000.    His  fellow  Scots  raised  an  equal 


VICTORIA    FALLS    AND   HOME  163 

sum.  Private  and  anonymous  gifts  of  money  were 
sent  to  him.  But  to  imagine,  for  a  moment,  that 
the  praise  given  him  and  the  honors  accorded  him 
and  the  comforts  offered  him  obhterated  the  mem- 
ory of  his  promises  made  to  his  African  friends  would 
be  to  mistake  the  quaUty  of  the  man.  Everywhere, 
before  Royal  Societies  and  in  public  lectures,  he 
made  it  clear  that  his  real  work  had  only  begun,  that 
his  duty  led  him  to  Africa,  that  he  had  given  his 
whole  life  to  what  he  believed  himself  most  capable 
of  doing. 

A  writer  in  the  Daily  News  interpreted  the  man  and 
his  mission  most  excellently,  thus:  "Dr.  Livingstone 
is  one  of  the  few  men  whose  words  are  reahties. 
There  is  a  quiet,  curt  energy  about  his  statements 
which  irresistibly  impresses  the  hearer  with  a  con- 
viction that  he  has  done  what  he  says,  and  that  he  will 
do  it  again  when  occasion  offers.  There  is  a  trans- 
parency in  the  simplicity  of  his  diction  which  lets  us 
see  the  working  of  his  mind,  as  if  by  some  process  of 
intuition.  .  .  .  There  is  true  sublimity  in  Dr. 
Livingstone's  allusion  to  the  immediate  resumption 
of  the  arduous  task  which  he  had  been  prosecuting 
for  sixteen  years,  and  is  about  to  return  to  after 
an  interval  of  only  a  few  months.  'He  saw  it  to  be 
his  duty  to  go,  and  he  was  determined  to  do  his  duty, 
whatever  others  might  say  about  the  matter.'  .  .  . 
It  was  impossible  to  look  round  upon  those  assemblies 
without  feehng  a  thrill  of  exultation  at  the  thought 
that,  literally,  the  whole  earth  is  full  of  our  labors — 


164 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


that  there  is  no  region  in  which  our  industrial  enter- 
prise, our  skill  in  arms,  our  benevolent  eagerness  to 
diffuse  the  blessings  of  civilization  and  pure  and  true 
religion,  have  not  been  displayed."  The  estimate  of 
Livingstone  is  just,  but  we  can  see  in  the  quaint  clos- 
ing phrases  of  this  report  how  far  Livingstone  was 
ahead  of  his  appreciator  and  of  the  ordinary  contem- 
porary position  on  the  poor  heathens.  "Skill  in 
arms  .  .  .  blessings  of  civilization."  One  thinks 
of  the  South  Sea  islanders. 

That  "only  a  few  months  "  of  the  Daily  News  writer 
was  not  spent  in  lazy  contentment.  His  friends. 
Sir  Roderick  Murchison  and  John  Murray,  the  pub- 
lisher, urged  him  to  write  his  experiences,  and  that 
persuasion  resulted  in  the  book,  Missionary  Travels. 
But  the  task  was  little  to  his  liking,  though  once 
commenced  he  stuck  to  it  tenaciously.  His  heart 
was  in  Africa.  How  that  promise  made  to  his  men, 
the  natives  he  had  left  between  Tette  and  the  port, 
bore  upon  him,  is  shown  in  a  passage  in  a  letter  writ- 
ten to  his  friend,  Sir  Thomas  Maclear,  dated  January 
21,  1857:  "I  begin  to-morrow  to  write  my  book,  and 
as  I  have  no  men  waiting  for  me  at  Tette,  whom  I 
promised  to  rejoin  in  April  next,  you  will  see  I  shall 
have  enough  to  do  to  get  through  my  work  here. 
.  .  .  Here  they  laud  me  till  I  shut  my  eyes  for 
only  trying  to  do  my  duty.  They  ought  to  vote 
thanks  to  the  Boers,  who  set  me  free  to  discover  this 
fine  new  country.  They  were  determined  to  shut 
the  country,  and  I  to  open  it.  ...  I  got  the  gold 
medal  as  you  predicted,  and  the  freedom  of  the  city 


\ 

VICTORIA   FALLS   AND   HOME  165 

of  Hamilton,  which  ensures  me  protection  from  the 
payment  of  fees  if  put  in  prison.    .    .  ." 

The  book  finished,  there  were  demands  which  it 
seemed  impossible  to  resist.  The  freedom  of  the  city 
of  Hamilton  had  been  given  to  him  when  he  visited 
his  boyhood  home,  to  find  his  mother  Hving  but  his 
father  dead.  The  city  of  London  had  to  present 
him  with  a  gold  box,  with  a  freedom  deed  enclosed. 
Oxford  University  wanted  him,  and  so  did  Cambridge; 
both  gave  him  degrees.  The  city  of  Glasgow  and  the 
University  there  had  to  honor  him.  Edinburgh, 
Leeds,  Birmingham,  Liverpool — each  city  accorded 
highest  honors.  Then  Lord  Palmerston  appointed 
him  Consul  for  the  East  Coast  of  Africa,  and  Lord 
Clarendon,  of  the  Admiralty,  invited  him  to  state  his 
desires  and  consider  them  granted.  There  was  one 
last  function,  on  February  13,  1857,  when  the  Royal 
Society  and  the  Royal  Geographical  Society  begged 
his  attendance  at  a  farewell  public  dinner.  Three 
hundred  and  fifty  men  notable  in  the  world  of  affairs 
and  the  world  of  science  were  there  to  honor  him,  and 
the  keynote  was  struck  by  Sir  Roderick  Murchison, 
when,  in  his  speech,  he  said  that  "after  eighteen 
months  of  laudation  from  all  classes  of  his  country- 
men, and  after  receiving  all  the  honors  universities 
and  cities  could  shower  on  him,  the  man  is  still  the 
same  honest,  true-hearted  David  Livingstone  as 
when  he  issued  from  the  wilds  of  Africa."  Of  course, 
the  man  of  whom  he  thus  spoke  was  incapable  of 
being  spoiled  by  praise,  just  as  he  was  incapable  of 
being  discouraged  by  hardship.    In  1857  Livingstone 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


resigned  from  the  London  Missionary  Society,  but  at 
this  time  and  always  his  relations  with  its  officials 
were  pleasant  and  without  strain. 

So,  in  his  forty-sixth  year,  when  men  of  fiber  not  so 
firm  are  doing  Httle  more  than  contemplating  their 
sunset  days,  David  Livingstone,  simple  and  uncom- 
plicated, caring  nothing  for  money  or  comforts,  set 
out  on  a  new  pilgrimage  full  of  zest  and  hope.  With 
him  were  his  wife;  Oswell,  the  youngest  child;  his 
brother,  Charles  Livingstone;  a  geologist  and  orni- 
thologist; Dr.  John  Kirk,  botanist;  Mr.  Francis  Skead 
of  the  Royal  Navy,  skilled  as  a  surveyor  who  joined 
the  party  by  arrangement  at  Capetown,  and  Mr. 
Richard  Thornton,  also  a  geologist.  As  part  of  his 
equipment  he  had  a  steam  launch,  in  sections — the 
Ala  Robert  it  was  named,  a  boat  easily  capable  of 
being  screwed  together  for  service,  and  of  being  taken 
apart  again  for  land  transportation.  For  its  opera- 
tion there  were  skilled  men,  and  a  commander.  By 
way  of  general  instructions,  each  member  of  the  ex- 
pedition was  handed  a  written  document,  signed  by 
Livingstone,  emphasizing  the  necessity  for  "a  well- 
regulated  and  orderly  household  of  Europeans,  setting 
an  example  of  consistent  moral  conduct,  treating  the 
people  with  kindness,  teaching  them  to  make  ex- 
periments in  agriculture,  relieving  their  wants,  ex- 
plaining the  more  simple  arts,  imparting  to  them 
religious  instruction  as  far  as  they  are  capable  of  re- 
ceiving it,  and  inculcating  peace  and  goodwill." 

The  party  left  Liverpool,  March  lo,  1858,  on  the 
steamer  Pearl,  touched  at  Capetown,  and  dis- 


VICTORIA   FALLS    AND  HOME 


167 


embarked  on  the  East  Coast  of  Africa  to  explore  the 
mouths  of  the  Zambesi,  in  May.  Mrs.  Livingstone, 
with  her  son,  had  been  left  at  Capetown,  on  account 
of  her  ill-health,  but  she  went  with  her  father,  Dr. 
Moffat,  to  Kolobeng. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


FIGHTING  THE  SLAVE  TRADE 

THE  account  of  the  second  expedition  to  Africa 
made  by  Livingstone  is  to  be  found  in  the  book 
entitled  Narrative  of  an  Expedition  to  the  Zambesi 
and  Its  Tributaries;  and  of  the  Discovery  of  the  Lakes 
Shirwa  and  Nyassa,  the  joint  production  of  David 
and  Charles  Livingstone.  The  volume,  like  all  of 
Livingstone's  works,  is  packed  full  with  information 
useful  to  geographer,  zoologist,  botanist,  geologist. 
There  are  in  it  tales  of  derring-do,  of  adventure,  of 
humor,  of  native  life  and  ways  and  customs;  enough 
material  to  last  a  short-story  writer  for  a  Hfetime. 
But  the  salient  thing  that  I  find  is  his  denunciation 
of  Portuguese  slave-trading,  and  that  denunciation  is 
done  in  no  timid  or  spiritless  way.  There  is  a  post- 
script to  the  preface  of  the  book,  ringing  with  in- 
criminations. Out  he  comes  with  his  charge  of  in- 
sincerity on  the  part  of  the  Portuguese  politicians, 
bluntly  as  Thoreau:  "The  credit  which  I  was  fain  to 
award  to  the  Lisbon  statesmen  for  a  sincere  desire  to 
put  an  end  to  the  slave  trade  is,  I  regret  to  find, 
totally  undeserved.  They  have  employed  one  Mons. 
Lacerda  to  try  to  extinguish  the  facts  adduced  by 
me  before  the  meeting  of  the  British  Association  for 
the  Advancement  of  Science,  at  Bath,  by  a  series  of 

i68' 


FIGHTING   THE    SLAVE   TRADE  169 

papers  in  the  Portuguese  Official  Journal,  and  their 
Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs  has  since  devoted  some 
of  the  funds  of  his  government  to  the  translation  and 
circulation  of  Mons.  Lacerda's  articles  in  the  form 
of  a  foreign  tract.  Nothing  is  more  conspicuous  in 
this  official  document  than  the  extreme  ignorance 
displayed  of  the  geography  of  the  country  of  which 
they  pretend  that  they  possess  not  only  the  knowl- 
edge, but  also  the  dominion." 

That  is  calHng  a  spade  by  its  proper  name.  But 
he  knew;  he  had  experienced;  and  knowledge  and 
experience  had  left  a  deep  mark  upon  his  heart.  He 
saw  those  he  accused,  not  as  genuine  settlers  intro- 
ducing valuable  institutions  and  inculcating  proper 
habits,  but  as  mere  money-seeking  masters  demorahz- 
ing  the  natives.  He  saw  them  as  plunderers  with 
whom  the  higher  motives  alleged  were  mere  pretences 
to  cover  the  nakedness  of  bare  spoliation.  He  saw 
conquest,  and  extermination,  and  disease,  and  dis- 
order. He  charged  the  Portuguese  with  interdicting 
foreign  commerce  and  shutting  out  the  natives  from 
any  trade  except  that  in  slaves.  He  saw  confusion  as 
the  end  of  Portuguese  domination.  Mark  the  words 
of  the  man,  so  bent  on  what  he  knew  to  be  right,  so 
infinitely  courageous  and  uncompromising.  Mark 
the  matchless  dignity  of  him  when  he  comes  to  spe- 
cific charges. 

"Looking  from  south  to  north,  let  us  glance  at  the 
enormous  seaboard  which  the  Portuguese  in  Europe 
endeavor  to  make  us  believe  belongs  to  them. 
Delagoa  Bay  has  a  small  forth  called  Lorenzo  Mar- 


170 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


ques,  but  nothing  beyond  the  walls.  At  Inhambane 
they  hold  a  small  strip  of  land  by  sufferance  of  the 
natives.  Sofala  is  in  ruins  and  from  Quilimane  north- 
ward for  690  miles  they  have  only  one  small  stockade, 
protected  by  an  armed  launch  in  the  mouth  of  the 
river  Angoza  to  prevent  foreign  vessels  from  trading 
there.  Then  at  Mozambique  they  have  the  little 
island  on  which  the  fort  stands,  and  a  strip  about 
three  miles  long  on  the  mainland,  on  which  they 
have  a  few  farms,  which  are  protected  from  hostility 
only  by  paying  the  natives  an  annual  tribute  which 
they  call  *  having  the  blacks  in  their  pay.'  The  settle- 
ment has  long  been  decHning  in  trade  and  importance. 
It  is  garrisoned  by  a  few  hundred  sickly  soldiers  shut 
up  in  the  fort,  and  even  with  a  small  coral  island  near 
can  hardly  be  called  secure.  On  the  island  of  Oibo, 
or  Iboe,  an  immense  number  of  slaves  are  collected, 
but  there  is  httle  trade  of  any  kind.  At  Bomba  Bay 
a  small  fort  was  made,  but  it  is  very  doubtful  whether 
it  still  exists,  the  attempt  to  form  a  settlement  there 
having  entirely  failed.  They  pay  tribute  to  the 
Zulus  for  the  lands  they  cultivate  on  the  right  bank 
of  the  Zambesi,  and  the  general  effect  of  the  pretense 
to  power  and  obstruction  to  commerce  is  to  drive  the 
independent  native  chiefs  to  the  Arab  dhow  slave 
trade  as  the  only  one  open  to  them." 

In  that  passage  we  have  a  hint  of  the  burden 
voluntarily  shouldered  by  Livingstone  the  consul, 
who,  as  missionary,  had  seen  and  shuddered  at  what 
he  called  "the  open,  running  sore  of  the  world." 
Because  he  loved,  he  hated.    He  was  a  servant  of  his 


FIGHTING   THE    SLAVE   TRADE  I7I 

country's  flag,  but  he  was  not  going  to  cultivate  in- 
difference to  his  country's  poUtical  shortcomings  by 
which  his  own  people  gave  moral  support  to  the  slave 
trade  by  looking  another  way  when  Portugal  made 
pretense  to  dominion.  So  long  as  England  accepted 
Portugal's  supremacy,  and  Portugal  pursued  its 
evil  courses,  just  so  long  was  England  wasting  her 
money  in  seeming  to  suppress  the  slave  trade.  To 
repeat,  Portugal's  claim  that  she  was  taking  civiliza- 
tion to  the  untutored  and  her  talk  about  spreading 
Christianity  and  putting  down  cruelty  and  slavery 
were  mere  shams. 

So  Livingstone  wrote:  "Our  squadron  on  the  East 
Coast  costs  over  £70,000  a  year,  and,  by  our  aquies- 
cence  in  the  sham  sovereignty  of  the  Portuguese,  we 
effect  only  a  partial  suppression  of  the  slave  trade,  and 
none  of  the  commercial  benefits  which  have  followed 
direct  dealing  with  the  natives  on  the  West  Coast.  A 
new  law  for  the  abolition  of  slavery  has  been  proposed 
by  the  King  of  Portugal,  but  it  inspires  me  with  no 
confidence,  as  no  means  have  ever  been  taken  to  put 
similar  enactments,  already  passed,  into  execution, 
and  we  can  only  view  this  as  a  new  bid  for  still  further 
acquiescence  in  a  system  which  perpetuates  bar- 
barism. Mons.  Lacerda  has  unwittingly  shown,  by 
his  eager  advocacy,  that  the  real  sentiments  of  his 
employers  are  decidedly  pro-slavery.  The  great 
fact  that  the  Americans  have  rid  themselves  of  the 
incubus  of  slavery,  and  will  probably  not  tolerate  the 
continuance  of  the  murderous  slave  trade  by  the 
Portuguese  nation,  has  done  more  to  eUcit  their 


172 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


king's  recent  speech  than  the  opinions  of  the  minis- 
try." 

Those  quotations  are  long,  but  very  much  to  the 
point,  as  showing  with  what  eager  expectancy  Living- 
stone looked  to  his  country  as  the  power  whose 
mission  it  was  to  bring  order  into  the  country  he  had 
opened.  For  it  was  worse  than  useless  for  him,  and 
others,  to  be  intrepid  and  active  in  exploration  if  the 
paths  they  made  were  used  by  those  who  trafficked  in 
human  flesh  and  blood.  And  that  was  literally  the 
case,  as  a  passage  in  the  eleventh  chapter  shows: 
"After  we  had  passed  up,  however,  a  party  of  slaves, 
belonging  to  the  two  native  Portuguese  who  assassi- 
nated the  chief  Mpangwe,  and  took  possession  of  his 
lands  at  Zumbo,  followed  on  our  footsteps,  and,  rep- 
resenting themselves  to  be  our  'children'  bought 
great  quantities  of  ivory  from  the  Bawe  for  a  few 
coarse  beads  a  tusk.  They  also  purchased  ten  large 
new  canoes  to  carry  it,  at  the  rate  of  six  strings  of 
red  or  white  beads,  or  two  fathoms  of  calico,  for  each 
canoe,  and,  at  the  same  cheap  rate,  a  number  of 
good-looking  girls.  .  .  .  We  had  long  ere  this 
become  thoroughly  convinced  that  the  government 
of  Lisbon  had  been  guilty,  possibly  unintentionally, 
of  double  dealing.  PubHc  instructions,  as  already 
stated,  had  been  sent  from  Portugal  to  all  the 
officials  to  render  us  every  assistance  in  their  power, 
but  these  were  to  be  understood  with  considerable 
reservation.  From  what  we  observed,  it  was  clear 
that,  with  the  public  orders  to  the  officials  to  aid  us, 
private  instructions  meant  only  that  we  were  to  be 


FIGHTING   THE    SLAVE  TRADE 


watched;  but  where  nearly  everyone,  from  governor 
to  convict  soldier,  is  an  eager  slave-trader,  such 
orders  could  only  mean,  *  Keep  a  sharp  lookout  that 
your  slave  trade  follows  as  near  to  their  heels  as 
possible.'  We  were  now  so  fully  convinced  that,  in 
opening  the  country  through  which  no  Portuguese 
durst  previously  pass,  we  were  made  the  unwilling 
instruments  of  extending  the  slave  trade,  that,  had 
we  not  been  under  obligations  to  return  with  the 
Makololo  to  their  own  country,  we  should  have  left 
the  Zambesi  and  gone  to  the  Rovuma,  or  to  some 
other  inlet  to  the  interior.  It  was  with  bitter  sorrow 
that  we  saw  the  good  we  would  have  done  turned  to 
evil." 

For  while  he  accomplished  much  during  the  six 
years  of  the  second  journey,  while  he  explored  the 
river  Shire,  while  he  discovered  Lake  Nyassa  and 
Lake  Shire,  while  he  located  a  suitable  port  as  outlet 
for  the  Zambesi  country,  and  while  he  proved  the 
Zambesi  navigable  for  river  steamers — achievement 
enough,  one  would  think,  for  a  lifetime — yet  there  was 
the  poison  of  the  slave  trade,  neutralizing  his  best 
efforts,  and  to  that  he  could  not,  and  would  not,  be 
blind;  or  seeing,  be  silent  concerning  it.  Hence 
the  emphasis  laid  upon  slavery  as  a  cause  of  strife 
and  disorder  where  he,  as  his  country's  representa- 
tive, wished  to  see  unity  and  peace.  He  was  white- 
lipped  with  anger  at  those  of  his  own  blood  and  race 
who  quoted  scripture  in  support  of  slavery. 

For  the  state  of  the  natives  was  very  grievous,  very 
disheartening,  very  humiliating.    The  slave  trade,  he 


174 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


declared  in  letters  private  and  public,  was  the  greatest 
obstacle  to  civilization  and  commercial  progress.  He 
wanted  all  England  to  know  that  slave-trading  was 
not  a  mere  matter  of  buying  and  selling,  but  that  cer- 
tain atrocious  fellows  sent  out  armed  parties  on  slave- 
hunting  forays  among  helpless  tribes,  and  carried  the 
victims  in  chains  to  the  coast,  where  they  were 
shipped  to  the  French  island  of  Bourbon.  When  he 
met  a  slave  train  his  heart  bled  because  "to  liberate 
and  leave  them  would  have  done  little  good,  as  the 
people  of  the  surrounding  villages  would  have  seized 
them  and  sold  them  into  slavery."  Everywhere 
along  the  slave  routes  the  natives  were  churlish  and 
suspicious  and  given  to  lying.  Famine,  droughts, 
floods,  fires,  tribal  quarrels;  all  were  good  winds  for 
the  slave-trader.  "One  of  the  evils  of  this  traffic," 
he  wrote,  "is  that  it  profits  by  every  calamity  that 
happens  in  a  country.  The  slave-trader  naturally 
reaps  advantage  from  every  disaster.  ...  As 
a  rule  he  intensifies  hatreds,  and  aggravates  wars 
between  the  tribes,  because  the  more  they  fight  and 
vanquish  each  other,  the  richer  his  harvest  becomes. 
Where  slaving  and  cattle  are  unknown,  the  people 
live  in  peace."  Then  there  was  the  unspeakable 
Mariano,  so  infamous  as  to  have  become  famous;  he 
is  told  of  more  than  once.  His  trail  was  everywhere, 
and  everywhere  blood-bespattered.  He  and  his 
men  would  rape,  burn,  slay,  destroy  utterly  hamlets 
and  villages,  lay  waste  valleys,  and  rob  those  too  old 
for  the  slave  market.  Once  Livingstone  and  his 
party  came  upon  a  raided  hamlet  in  w^hich  the  sur- 


FIGHTING   THE    SLAVE  TRADE 


vivors  had  been  left  without  food,  the  very  crops 
having  been  destroyed  with  exquisite  fiendishness. 
"The  women  were  in  the  fields  collecting  insects, 
roots,  wild  fruits,  and  whatever  could  be  eaten,  in 
order  to  save  their  lives,  if  possible,  till  the  next 
crop  should  be  ripe.  Two  canoes  passed  us,  that  had 
been  robbed  by  Mariano's  band  of  everything  they 
had  in  them;  the  owners  were  gathering  palm  nuts 
for  their  subsistence.  They  wore  palm-leaf  aprons, 
as  the  robbers  had  stripped  them  of  their  clothing 
and  ornaments.  Dead  bodies  floated  past  us  daily, 
and  in  the  morning  the  paddles  had  to  be  cleared  of 
corpses,  caught  by  the  floats  during  the  night.  For 
scores  of  miles  the  entire  population  of  the  valley  was 
swept  by  this  scourge  Mariano,  who  is  again,  as  he 
was  before,  the  great  Portuguese  slave  agent.  It 
made  the  heart  ache  to  see  the  widespread  desolation; 
the  river  banks,  once  so  populous,  all  silent;  the 
villages  all  burned  down,  and  an  oppressive  stillness 
reigning  everywhere  where  formerly  crowds  of  eager 
sellers  appeared  with  the  various  products  of  their 
industry.  Here  and  there  might  be  seen  on  the  bank 
a  small,  dreary,  deserted  shed,  where  had  sat,  day 
after  day,  a  starving  fisherman,  until  the  rising  waters 
drove  the  fish  from  their  wonted  haunts  and  left  him 
to  die.  Tingane  had  been  defeated;  his  people  had 
been  killed,  kidnapped,  and  forced  to  flee  from  their 
villages.  There  were  a  few  wretched  survivors  in  a 
village  above  the  Rue;  but  the  majority  of  the  popu- 
lation was  dead.  The  sight  and  smell  of  dead  bodies 
was  everywhere.    Many  skeletons  lay  beside  the 


176 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


path,  where  in  their  weakness  they  had  fallen  and 
expired.  Ghastly  living  forms  of  boys  and  girls, 
with  dull,  dead  eyes,  were  crouching  beside  some  of 
the  huts.  A  few  more  miserable  days  of  their  terrible 
hunger,  and  they  would  be  with  the  dead."  So 
wrought  the  slave-trader.  The  paths  he  took  were 
in  part  those  opened  by  Livingstone,  and  the  people 
upon  whom  the  slave-trader  came  like  a  fiend  from 
hell  were  the  simple,  generous  folk  whose  lives  Liv- 
ingstone had  hoped,  in  time,  to  make  happier. 

So  the  keynote  of  the  second  expedition  is  sounded.  / 
There  are  those  who  have  passed  somewhat  lightly 
over  the  record  of  the  second  journey,  holding  that 
the  Zambesi  tour  was  not  as  important  in  discoveries 
as  the  first.  We  forget  that  there  were  important 
contributions  to  geographical  and  other  sciences,  and 
that  no  man  could  attain  as  much  in  six  years  as  in 
sixteen.  Some  again,  who  could  not  forgive  Living- 
stone for  resigning  from  the  Missionary  Society,  have 
passed  over  his  second  trip  as  being  of  no  religious 
value,  forgetting,  or  not  knowing,  that  the  man's  eye 
and  heart  were  fixed  on  a  wider  range  of  activity,  and 
ignorant  of  the  fact  that  he  was  training  the  natives  C  I 
to  usefulness,  to  order,  to  a  finer  life.  All  of  these 
forget  that  Livingstone's  work  was  "the  death  blow 
to  the  slave  trade"  in  Africa. 

But  passing  to  the  exploration  work  of  that  second 
expedition,  as  soon  as  the  Ma  Robert  had  been  fitted  ,  1 
and  launched,  the  four  channels  by  which  the  Zam-  \ 
besi  fell  into  the  sea  were  examined  and  charted  and 
measured.    The  party  sailed  up  the  Kongone  branch 


FIGHTING   THE    SLAVE    TRADE  I77 

for  twenty  miles,  in  the  Pearl,  and  found  themselves 
in  a  broad  plain  of  great  agricultural  promise,  but 
terribly  malarial.  As  the  Pearl  could  go  no  farther, 
because  of  the  shallow  water,  there  was  considerable 
activity  during  long  hours,  and  without  much  rest, 
transferring  cargo  and  necessities  by  launch  and  pin- 
nace to  Sienna,  Livingstone's  base.  And,  lo  and  be- 
hold! suddenly  among  the  white  men  of  the  ship 
there  were  reckless  assertions  that  they  were  being 
made  to  slave,  there  were  generalizations  about  free 
men  and  a  free  country,  there  was  wholesale  abuse  of 
bosses  and  masters,  something  indeed  very  much  like 
a  strike,  or  an  incipient  mutiny.  It  was,  they  con- 
sidered, all  very  well  to  talk  of  fever,  and  the  neces- 
sity for  the  Pearl  to  clear  for  Bomba  Bay,  but  they 
wanted  Sunday  off  and  a  full  hour  for  meals.  So 
the  twelve  natives  wondered  much  and  worked  the 
harder,  while  the  leaders  of  the  objectors  withdrew 
to  a  little  island  for  discussion,  where,  instead  of 
achieving  economic  perfection,  some  of  them  took 
fever. 

Presently  the  Ma  Robert  started  for  Tette,  and  be- 
fore she  had  gone  a  couple  of  knots,  the  men  were 
ironic.  She  took  four  hours  to  make  steam  and  con- 
sumed immense  quantities  of  wood,  and  she  made 
such  labor  of  her  work  that  the  attendant  canoes 
shot  ahead  of  her.  Moreover,  she  was  noisy,  she 
leaked,  she  made  hard  work  of  a  little  current,  she 
was  worse  than  cumbersome  in  weedy  stretches  of 
water,  and  if  a  start  was  to  be  made  at  six,  she  had 
to  be  fired  up  at  two  in  the  morning.    So  the  craft 


178 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


was  renamed  Asthmatic.  Livingstone  was  mildly 
sarcastic  about  the  man  who  had  sold  her  "  at  a  sacri- 
fice for  love  of  the  cause,"  and  as  soon  as  opportunity 
permitted,  asked  his  government  to  send  out  a  more 
serviceable  ship,  so  that  presently  he  had  the  Pioneer. 
But  that  is  anticipating. 

Livingstone  and  his  party  reached  Tette  on 
September  8,  1858,  and  the  news  of  his  coming  had 
preceded  him  as  if  broadcast  from  a  radio  station. 
His  Makololo  friends  were  waiting;  but  not  all,  for 
thirty  had  died  from  smallpox,  and  six  of  adventur- 
ous soul  had  gone  far  afield,  to  astonish  the  natives 
with  their  dancing,  and  had  been  murdered  by  an 
enemy  chief  named  Bonga,  or  Tigercat. 

It  is  easy  to  imagine  that  first  day's  talk,  and  the 
enjoyment  of  it:  reminiscences  with  all  pains  for- 
gotten, remembrances  of  Sekwebu  and  his  true  love 
and  loyalty,  the  hearing  of  Livingstone's  story  of 
England,  which  they  would  regard  as  a  dramatic 
kind  of  thing;  references  to  Linyanti,  to  which  they 
expected  to  go  as  soon  as  possible,  led  by  Livingstone. 
He  told  them  that  he  would  keep  his  promise  to  them 
and  would  take  them  home,  but  first  there  were 
duties  to  be  done  in  the  way  of  exploration.  He  had 
heard  of  lakes  never  seen  by  white  men,  of  a  people 
beyond  one  of  those  lakes  who  had  never  seen  white 
men,  and  much  more.  If  the  Makololo  wanted  to 
go  with  him,  well  and  good.  If  not,  he  would  return 
to  Tette  and  take  them,  as  he  had  promised,  to 
Linyanti  and  King  Sekeletu.  And,  of  course,  the 
Makololo  were  willing  to  go,  more  than  willing,  even 


FIGHTING   THE    SLAVE  TRADE 


179 


anxious,  even  regarding  Livingstone  with  an  amused 
surprise  when  he  spoke  of  possible  hardships  and 
dangers.  The  intolerable  thing  would  have  been  his 
leaving  them  behind. 

There  were  two  trips  up  the  river  Shire,  with  a 
thorough  investigation  of  the  country  watered  by  it; 
the  discovery  of  Lake  Shirwa  on  April  18,  1859,  a 
sheet  of  brackish  water  from  60  to  80  miles  long  and 
20  wide;  then  a  return  to  Tette  on  June  23,  1859, 
the  purpose  of  reprovisioning  and  patching  up  the 
yisthmatic. 

It  was  while  on  the  first  up-river  trip  that  a  Tette 
slave  told  of  "a  strange  race  of  men  whom  he  had 
seen  in  the  interior;  they  were  only  three  feet  high, 
and  had  horns  growing  out  of  their  heads;  they  lived 
in  a  large  town  and  had  plenty  of  food."  But  the 
Makololo  laughed  at  the  tale,  and  the  explorers  dis- 
believed it.  It  remained  for  Stanley,  in  1876,  to  con- 
firm, in  large  part,  the  native's  story.*  But  more 
curious  than  the  tale  of  the  dwarfs  was  the  fact  that, 
in  the  mountainous  country  near  Lake  Shirwa,  their 
guides  were  often  harmless  insane  natives.  "These 
poor  fellows  sympathized  with  the  explorers,  probably 
in  the  belief  that  they  belonged  to  their  own  class; 
and,  uninfluenced  by  the  general  opinion  of  their 
countrymen,  they  really  pitied,  and  took  kindly  to 
the  strangers,  and  often  guided  them  faithfully  from 
place  to  place,  when  no  sane  man  could  be  hired 
for  love  or  money." 

A  third  trip  up  the  river  Shire  was  commenced  in 

*  Through  the  Dark  Continent,  Vol.  II. 


i8o 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


the  middle  of  August,  1859,  and  the  main  purpose  of 
it  was  to  locate  the  great  lake  of  which  they  had 
heard,  Nyassa.  On  August  28,  1859,  ^^^Y  struck 
inland,  a  party  of  the  four  whites,  thirty-six  Makololo, 
and  two  guides.  For  nineteen  days  they  tramped 
up  mountain  and  down  mountain,  skirting  the  Kirk 
Range.  They  were  pleasantly  greeted  and  enter- 
tained by  the  natives  everywhere,  and  found  them  to 
be  a  quiet  people,  given  to  agriculture  and  the  work- 
ing of  iron  into  spears  and  hooks  and  needles.  At 
noon,  on  the  sixteenth  day  of  September,  they  sighted 
the  lake,  an  inland  sea  210  miles  long  and  26  miles 
wide,  its  shores  a  series  of  vast  rich  green  plains 
thickly  populated.  It  seemed  to  Livingstone  a 
place  ideally  suited  for  colonization,  and  he  stood 
aghast  when  he  saw  signs  of  the  slave-traders'  trail 
there.  The  barbarism  of  Europeans  in  that  fair 
land  made  him  shiver  in  his  soul.  But  he  dreamed 
ardent  dreams  of  better  things.  He  wrote:  "I  have 
a  strong  desire  to  commence  a  system  of  coloniza- 
tion among  the  honest  poor.  I  would  give  £2,000  or 
£3,000  for  the  purpose.  Colonization  from  such  a 
country  as  ours  ought  to  be  one  of  hope,  not  of  de- 
spair. It  ought  not  to  be  looked  on  as  the  last  shift 
a  family  can  come  to,  but  the  performance  of  an  im- 
perative duty  to  our  blood,  our  country,  our  religion, 
and  to  human-kind.  .  .  .  In  no  part  of  the  world 
I  have  been  in  does  the  prospect  seem  so  inviting  and 
promise  so  much  influence."  Then  his  dreams  and 
schemes  and  designs  were  suddenly  suspended,  and 
he  mused  awhile  over  other  possibiUties.    .    .  . 


FIGHTING   THE    SLAVE    TRADE  l8l 

Why  not  a  small  war  vessel  on  the  lake?  It  vi^as 
England's  by  right  of  discovery,  that  inland  sea,  and 
"by  judicious  operations  .  .  .  one  small  vessel 
would  have  decidedly  more  influence,  and  do  more 
good  in  suppressing  the  slave  trade,  than  half  a  dozen 
men-of-war  on  the  ocean."  Later,  he  proposed  the 
plan  in  a  tentative  way  to  officers  of  the  navy,  and 
they  agreed  with  him. 

It  was  only  by  a  few  weeks  that  Livingstone  found 
the  lake  before  Dr.  Roscher,  a  German  explorer. 
Roscher,  who  saw  it  on  November  19,  1859,  mur- 
dered by  natives  who  suspected  him  of  being  the 
forerunner  of  slave-dealers,  so  his  adventures  are  not 
known,  except  as  a  patch  here  and  another  there. 

At  last  came  the  time  for  the  long  tramp  to 
Linyanti,  in  fulfillment  of  the  promise  that  the 
Makololo  would  be  taken  home  to  their  own  land. 
But,  in  some  cases,  natural  nobility  had  become  cor- 
rupted. There  were  those  who  had  contracted  the 
moral  malaria  of  a  slave  atmosphere,  so  were  shiftless 
and  improvident.  Some  spoke  of  the  Linyanti 
country  with  affection,  but  were  too  indolent  to  face 
the  journey.  So  the  degenerated  were  left  behind,  for 
there  were  no  persuasions,  and  at  two  on  the  after- 
noon of  May  15th,  the  pilgrimage  started. 

Then  was  Livingstone  in  his  glory,  a  leader  of  a 
crusade.  Then  were  the  Makololo  free  with  their 
leader  of  unforgotten  long  marches.  Charles  Living- 
stone's account  of  how  everything  was  done  in  good 
order  is  as  good  as  romance;  how  the  night's  camp 
was  with  one  party  in  front,  the  donkeys  on  the  right, 


l82 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


the  Batoka  party  on  the  left,  the  Tette  men  in  the 
rear;  how,  on  hahing  at  evening,  certain  men  set  to 
work  to  make  the  beds  of  branches  and  twigs;  how 
some  unloaded  and  some  prepared  camp;  how  the 
arms  were  piled  in  such  a  spot  and  the  fires  lit  in 
such  wise  and  fashion;  how  the  charge  of  the  fire  for 
cooking  was  given  to  Matonga;  how,  at  evening,  after 
cooking  and  eating  were  over,  there  was  singing  or 
talking  far  into  the  night.  "At  times  animated 
political  discussions  sprang  up,  and  the  amount  of 
eloquence  expended  on  these  occasions  is  amusing," 
writes  Charles  Livingstone.  "The  whole  camp  is 
aroused,  and  the  men  shout  about  to  one  another 
from  the  different  fires;  while  some,  whose  tongues 
are  never  heard  on  any  other  subject,  burst  into 
impassioned  speech."  And,  as  with  more  civiHzed 
men,  the  shortcomings  of  governors  formed  the  most 
fruitful  theme.  "We  could  govern  ourselves  better, 
they  cry,  so  what  is  the  use  of  chiefs  at  all?  They  do 
not  work.  The  chief  is  fat  and  has  plenty  of  wives, 
while  we  who  do  the  hard  work  have  hunger,  only  one 
wife  or  more  Ukely  none."  Unterrified  JefFersonian 
democrats  were  many  in  the  jungle. 

In  fact,  as  Charles  Livingstone  discovered  with  an 
amused  surprise,  man  in  the  jungle  was  in  many  re- 
spects very  much  like  man  in  the  town — some  of 
them  radical  and  some  of  them  highly  conservative, 
some  of  them  considering  things  with  reference  to  the 
ideal  and  some  of  them  looking  at  things  with  an  eye 
to  practical  consequences,  some  of  them  all  for  ma- 
terial gain  and  some  of  them  choosing  to  live  in  a 


FIGHTING   THE    SLAVE    TRADE  183 

fairyland  of  poetry.  An  amusing  instance  of  the 
last  is  given  by  Charles  Livingstone,  an  instance  valu- 
able to  those  who  suppose  folklore  and  folk  songs  to 
be  something  springing  spontaneously  from  a  group, 
not  knowing  that  there  have  been  in  all  times  and  in 
all  places  Widsiths  and  Rutebeufs  and  Taillefers  and 
men  of  Gaspe,  who  sang  because  songs  grew  in 
their  hearts.  I  copy  the  passage,  while  a  vision  of 
the  wandering  minstrel  is  in  my  mind's  eye,  for  I  have 
seen  many  of  the  kind.  "Men  of  remarkable  ability 
have  risen  up  among  the  Africans  from  time  to  time 
.  .  .  but  the  total  absence  of  Hterature  leads 
to  the  loss  of  all  former  experience.  .  .  .  They 
have  their  minstrels.  .  .  .  One  of  these,  and 
apparently  a  genuine  poet,  attached  himself  to  our 
party  for  several  days,  and  whenever  we  halted,  sang 
our  praises  to  the  villagers  in  smooth  and  harmonious 
numbers.  It  was  a  sort  of  blank  verse,  and  each  line 
consisted  of  five  syllables.  The  song  was  short  when 
it  first  began,  but  each  day  he  picked  up  more  in- 
formation about  us,  and  added  to  the  poem  until  our 
praises  became  an  ode  of  respectable  length.  .  .  . 
Another  .  .  .  belonged  to  the  Batoka  of  our 
own  party.  Every  evening,  while  the  others  were 
cooking,  talking,  or  sleeping,  he  rehearsed  his  songs, 
containing  a  history  of  everything  he  had  seen  in  the 
land  of  the  white  men,  and  on  the  way  back.  In 
composing,  extempore,  any  new  piece,  he  halted 
not,  but  eked  out  the  measure  with  a  peculiar  musical 
sound  meaning  nothing  at  all.  He  accompanied  his 
recitations  on  the  sansa,  an  instrument  [with]  nine 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


iron  keys  which  are  played  with  the  thumbs.  .  .  . 
Persons  of  a  musical  turn,  if  too  poor  to  buy  a  sansa, 
may  be  seen  playing  vigorously  on  an  instrument  made 
with  a  number  of  corn  stalks  sewn  together.   .   .   , " 

At  Victoria  Falls  there  were  sight-seeing,  and  meas- 
uring, and  charting;  then,  suddenly  as  a  meteor 
falls  into  the  world's  air,  another  man's  adventures 
shot  into  theirs.  For  a  native  told  the  story  of  a 
white  man  who  was  held  in  captivity  by  a  chief  named 
Mashotlane,  and  Mashotlane  was  a  warrior  of  the 
old  school,  who  had  fought  under  Sebituane  and  set 
no  exaggerated  estimate  on  the  value  of  human  life. 
Unconquerable  kingship  had  been  the  native's  ideal, 
and  to  that  ideal  he  continued  to  hold  fast.  So  mat- 
ters called  for  swift  action  on  Livingstone's  part, 
and  he  looked  into  the  affair. 

The  chief's  prisoner  turned  out  to  be  a  Natal 
EngHshman,  a  Mr.  Baldwin,  one  of  those  lone 
wanderers  who  are  to  be  heard  of  in  any  uncharted 
land.  Alone,  without  outfit  except  a  wagon  which 
he  left  at  a  point  two  days'  march  away,  living  on  the 
country  as  he  went,  with  nothing  but  a  pocket  com- 
pass to  guide  him,  he  had  tramped  those  many  miles, 
eager  to  see  the  famous  falls.  And  he  had  seen  them 
to  his  heart's  content,  the  second  white  man  to  do  so. 
Then,  heading  home  again,  a  trivial  accident  coupled 
with  a  drawing  of  illogical  conclusions  on  the  part  of 
the  chief  came  near  to  ending  him.  For,  wishing  to 
cross  the  river  and  having  no  boat,  he  had  hailed  a 
crew  of  natives  who  were  canoeing.  They  ferried 
him,  but  only  part  of  the  way,  because  the  English- 


FIGHTING  THE    SLAVE   TRADE  185 

man,  having  passed  the  swiftest  part  of  the  current, 
leaped  overboard  to  swim  the  rest  of  the  distance. 
Possibly  he  had  seen  signs  of  heated  controversy 
among  the  boatmen  on  the  subject  of  rates  of  fare. 
However,  the  natives  resented  that  unphilosophic 
hastiness  and  so  carried  their  passenger  to  their 
chief,  and  there  white  man  and  native  became  tangled 
in  a  coil.  Mashotlane  decided  that  the  EngHshman 
should  pay  a  fine,  but  showed  a  deplorable  unwilling- 
ness to  allow  him  out  of  his  sight;  nor  could  the  Eng- 
lishman ransom  himself  without  going  to  his  wagon. 
So  there  was  friction,  and  in  the  middle  of  it  Living- 
stone's party  came. 

Matters  were  soon  righted  after  Livingstone  had 
tackled  the  chief  in  a  businesslike  way,  and  the  chief 
lightly  explained  away  his  action  as  perfectly  consist- 
ent. "If  the  white  man  had  been  devoured  by  one 
of  the  crocodiles,  then  the  English  would  have 
blamed  me  for  his  death.  He  nearly  inflicted  a  great 
injury  on  us,  therefore  he  had  to  pay  a  fine,"  he  said, 
and  there  was  every  evidence  that  the  chief  had 
grappled  sincerely  with  his  problem.  On  such  false 
generalizations  nations  have  fallen  before  now. 

The  incident  led  them  to  touch  another  adventure, 
or  rather  to  hear  of  one.  The  tale  was  told  by  Bald- 
win. It  was  that  of  a  missionary  outfit  sent  by  the 
\/  London  Missionary  Society  to  Linyanti,  following  Liv- 
ingstone's opening  trail.  In  the  Helmore  party  were 
nine  Europeans  and  thirteen  natives  from  the  south, 
all  of  them  inexperienced  and  probably  expecting 
to  do  at  a  stroke  what  Livingstone  had  done  after  a 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


dozen  years  of  hard  apprentice  work.  The  project 
had  probably  been  undertaken  without  much  con- 
sideration. At  a  well  in  the  desert  Baldwin  found 
the  party  stranded,  suffering  from  hunger,  unable  to 
hunt  for  themselves,  fear-driven.  The  doughty 
adventurerer  did  what  he  could,  hunting  for  them  and 
leaving  them  with  meat  enough  to  carry  them  to 
Linyanti,  then,  having  seen  them  out  of  their  miser- 
able mess,  went  his  way.  The  missionary  party 
reached  Linyanti  in  time,  but  it  was  in  such  a  state 
of  weakness  and  exhaustion  as  to  be  easily  taken  with 
the  fever.  Soon  five  out  of  the  nine  Europeans  had 
died,  and  several  of  the  natives  of  the  party  were 
sick  with  the  fever.  The  natives  accused  the  Mako- 
lolo  of  poisoning  them,  and  those  that  were  hale, 
of  being  ready  to  take  up  warfare  in  revenge.  So  the 
mission  failed  utterly,  and  the  survivors  went  south, 
a  broken  body. 

It  was  an  example  of  the  misguided  efforts  of  well- 
meaning  but  mistaken  men.  There  were  enthusiasm, 
energy,  zeal,  labor  in  abundance,  all  flung  into  a  cause 
— but  there  was  not  knowledge,  there  was  not  ex- 
perience, there  was  not  that  understanding  which 
Livingstone  always  insisted  was  the  most  important 
thing  of  all.  The  man  in  charge  of  the  mission  knew 
nothing  of  the  native  language,  therefore  had  no  in- 
fluence, and,  what  was  worse,  among  the  party  there 
was  no  one  with  the  slightest  knowledge  of  medicine. 
If  we  imagine  a  Sikh,  full  of  prophetic  dignity  and  im- 
passioned devotion,  going  to  Chicago  to  undertake 
the  stupendous  task  of  converting  Americans  to  a 


FIGHTING   THE    SLAVE    TRADE  187 


belief  in  the  Adi-Granth,  we  shall  have  some  shght 
idea  of  the  picture  presented  to  the  Makololo  people 
at  the  coming  of  the  missionaries.  But  Livingstone's 
saner  attitude  would  be  like  that  of  a  Sikh,  who,  be- 
fore attempting  to  talk  to  Americans  about  the 
Tat  tvam  asi,  insisted  that  a  knowledge  of  American 
geography,  of  American  ways  and  customs,  of  the 
language,  of  ideals  of  citizenship,  of  morals,  of 
psychological  workings,  of  philosophical  positions, 
and  of  much  more,  was  necessary.  He  saw  necessities 
with  a  degree  of  sharpness  and  clearness  not  under- 
stood by  his  fellows  of  the  Missionary  Society.  He 
saw  things  as  they  were,  and  knew  them  to  be  of  great 
breadth  and  great  depth  and  great  complexity,  and 
had  the  members  of  the  Missionary  Society  listened 
to  him,  had  they  been  guided  by  him,  such  disasters 
as  that  of  Helmore  at  Linyanti  might  have  been  pre- 
vented and  the  policy  of  more  ordered  march  and 
gradual  development  would  have  left  the  Missionary 
Society  the  stronger.  And  what  was  very  much  to 
the  point,  Livingstone,  after  years  of  patient  trial 
and  experiment,  had  found  what  was  an  almost  sure 
specific  for  the  fever.  The  carefully  prepared  pill, 
still  in  use  and  known  as  "Livingstone  pills,"  had 
been  found  very  efficacious  by  his  traveling  com- 
panions. But  unsophisticated  men  thought  that 
they  could  enter  new  tropic  lands  without  as  much 
as  a  medicine  chest. 

Drawing  near  Linyanti,  Livingstone  heard  strange 
tales.  Possession  of  the  scepter  had  not  sobered 
Sekeletu,  and  the  chivalrous  traditions  of  his  father 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


had  been  abandoned.  He  had  taken  to  the  spear, 
and  tried  to  rule  with  feeble  aggressiveness.  So  the 
people  had  scattered.  There  had  been  a  severe 
drought,  too,  and  the  country  was  suflFering  grievously, 
A  tribe  had  revolted  against  Sekeletu's  rule,  and 
things  looked  ugly.  As  for  Sekeletu  himself,  he  was 
said  to  have  so  changed  that  no  one  who  had  known 
him  two  years  before  could  recognize  him.  His 
fingers  had  become  like  eagle's  claws,  and  his  face 
was  swollen  and  horrible  to  see;  so  some  said  that  he 
was  not  Sekeletu,  but  some  creature  bewitched  and 
strangely  altered — 

"A  fellow  by  the  hand  of  Nature  marked 
Quoted  and  signed  to  do  a  deed  of  shame." 

Almost  everyone  who  talked  of  the  chief  spoke  of 
sorcery.  But  Livingstone  suspected  leprosy,  and, 
seeing  him  at  his  camp,  a  hundred  and  twenty  miles  ^ 
from  Linyanti,  found  his  diagnosis  correct.  The 
luckless  chief  was  sitting  in  a  covered  wagon,  around 
which  a  high  wall  of  close-set  reeds  had  been  grown, 
and  an  old  medicine  woman  was  attending  him. 
Nor  did  Livingstone  judge  it  wise  to  interfere,  because 
of  native  suspicion,  and  because  the  woman  "had 
not  given  him  up  yet,  but  would  try  for  another 
month;  if  he  was  not  cured  by  that  time  then  she 
would  hand  him  over  to  the  white  doctors." 

Of  the  chief,  Livingstone  wrote  that  he  had  the 
quiet,  unassuming  manners  of  his  father;  he  spoke 
distinctly,  in  a  low,  pleasing  voice,  and  was  quite 


FIGHTING   THE    SLAVE    TRADE  189 


sensible  except  that  he  firmly  believed  himself  the 
subject  of  serpent  sorceries. 

The  worry  and  disorganization  due  to  the  chief's 
change  of  policy  had  not  affected  the  ways  of  the 
Makololo  greatly.  They  were  still  a  truthful  and 
cleanly  people,  strong  and  self-dependent,  of  sound 
moral  sense  and  sympathy,  of  clean  justice  and  high 
honor.  A  mystical  note  was  sounded,  when  the 
Linyanti  herald,  at  dawn,  greeted  Livingstone's 
party  with  his  song  of  welcome,  thus : 

"I  have  dreamed! 
I  have  dreamed! 
I  have  dreamed! 
Thou  Mosale, 
Thou  Pekonyane. 
My  lords  all. 
Be  not  faint-hearted. 
Nor  let  your  hearts  be  sore. 
Believe  the  words  of  Monare* 
His  heart  is  white  as  milk 
To  all  Makololo. 
I  dreamed  that  he  was  coming, 
And  that  the  tribe  would  Hve, 
If  to  God  you  prayed 
And  heeded  Monare's  words." 

Then  there  was  the  sense  of  responsibility,  more 
markedly  developed  in  the  Makololo  than  in  many 
white  races.    Sekeletu,  on  first  meeting  Livingstone, 

*Livingstone. 


190 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


had  told  him  that  there  were  two  packages  of  mail 
from  Kuruman,  which  had  been  delivered  at  Linyanti 
some  time  before.  Noting  the  explorer's  modified 
eagerness,  he  sent  a  courier,  who  did  the  round  trip  of 
two  hundred  and  forty  miles  within  seven  days,  but 
who  was  reluctantly  forced  to  leave  one  of  the 
packages  on  account  of  its  weight. 

At  Linyanti,  Livingstone  found  his  wagon,  which 
he  had  left  seven  years  before,  the  woodwork  much 
the  worse  because  of  white  ants,  but  the  contents 
as  he  had  left  them,  intact  and  unmeddled  with.  A 
knowledge  of  medicine  might  have  saved  the  ill-fated 
missionary  party  that  had  perished,  for  some  of  its 
members  had  died  no  more  than  a  hundred  yards 
from  the  wagon  which  contained  a  very  complete 
set  of  medicines. 

So  David  Livingstone  had  fulfilled  his  promise  in 
seeing  his  Makololo  friends  to  their  native  land.  He 
had  seen  some  effects  of  his  work,  and  he  had  seen 
the  new  and  disquieting  feature  of  Sekeletu's  policy 
of  overmastery,  but  to  mend  that  was  impossible, 
and,  being  a  man  of  head  as  well  as  heart,  he  knew  the 
futility  of  engaging  in  tribal  politics.  Having  done 
all  that  was  possible,  he  turned  east  again,  leaving  on 
September  17,  i860. 


CHAPTER  IX 


SORROW  AND  APPARENT  DEFEAT 

THE  journey  back  to  Tette  was  a  distinguished 
one  in  the  way  of  speed,  for  they  reached  there 
on  November  21st.  But  there  was  an  unlucky  inci- 
dent on  the  Kebrabasa  Rapids,  for  one  of  the  canoes 
was  overset  and  Dr.  Kirk's  notes  were  lost.  And  at 
Tette,  it  was  clear  that  the  old  Asthmatic  was  on  her 
last  trip.  "Our  engineer  has  been  doctoring  her 
bottom  with  fat  and  patches,  and  pronounces  it  safe 
to  go  down  the  river  slowly.  Every  day  a  new  leak 
breaks  out,  and  he  is  in,  plastering  and  scoring,  the 
pump  going  constantly.  I  never  expected  to  find  her 
afloat,  but  the  engineer  (while  at  Tette)  had  nothing 
else  to  do,  and  it  saves  us  from  buying  dear  canoes 
from  the  Portuguese."  So  runs  the  Journal.  Five 
days  before  Christmas  the  craft  stuck  on  a  sand  bank, 
her  hold  filled  rapidly,  and  she  had  to  be  abandoned. 

So  they  made  their  way  by  canoe  to  Kongone,  and 
on  the  last  day  of  the  year  the  Pioneer,  the  new  boat 
sent  for  river  service  from  England  at  Livingstone's 
request,  came  to  port.  With  her  were  two  English 
cruisers,  carrying  a  mission  party  of  six  Englishmen 
and  five  colored  men  in  charge  of  Bishop  Mackenzie. 
It  was  the  Oxford  and  Cambridge  mission  to  the 
tribes  on  the  Shire  and  Lake  Nyassa,  and  Livingstone 

191 


192 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


was  embarrassed  v^ith  his  newly  acquired  riches. 
"It  was  a  puzzle  to  know  what  to  do  with  so  many 
men,"  is  the  way  he  puts  it.  Part  of  that  puzzle 
came  from  the  fact  that,  as  matters  stood,  the  mission 
would  land  its  men  in  the  most  unhealthy  season; 
and,  what  was  worse,  profiteers  had  been  at  work,  for 
the  fever  pills  were  useless  and  "must  have  been  made 
from  dirt,  not  drugs."  So  Livingstone  found  himself 
with  additional  burdens.  In  the  end,  he  persuaded 
the  bishop  to  accompany  him  to  Johanna  where  the 
superfluous  men  were  to  be  left  with  the  English  con- 
sul for  a  while.  Nor  was  the  Pioneer  altogether  satis- 
factory for  river  work,  as  she  drew  some  five  feet  and 
the  safe  maximum  draught  for  a  useful  boat  was  three 
feet.  However,  the  bishop  had  to  know  something  of 
the  country,  so  there  were  river  expeditions,  with 
tremendous  work  at  sand  bars  and  portages,  on  the 
upper  Shire. 

And  soon  the  bishop  saw  something  of  the  dark 
side  of  the  African  picture,  and  seeing,  understood 
much  of  the  humanizing  work  which  Livingstone 
knew  to  be  a  paramount  duty.  The  story  is  a  fine  in- 
stance of  the  warlike  fire  which  consumed  the  explorer 
behind  the  mask  of  his  unusual  silence:  "...  We 
halted  at  the  village  of  our  old  friend  Mbame,  to 
obtain  new  carriers,  because  Chibisa's  men,  never 
before  having  been  hired,  and  not  yet  having  learned 
to  trust  us,  did  not  choose  to  go  further.  After  rest- 
ing a  little,  Mbame  told  us  that  a  slave  party  on  its 
way  to  Tette  would  presently  pass  through  his 
village."    Then  there  were  questions  as  to  the  wis- 


SORROW   AND   APPARENT   DEFEAT  I93 

dom  or  otherwise  of  interference,  because  news  of 
such  might  mean  retaliation  on  the  part  of  the  Portu- 
guese authorities.  But  Livingstone  was  thoroughly 
roused  to  anger,  remembering  that  his  path  opening 
had  been  used  to  give  an  impetus  to  slave-dealing, 
and  he  felt  a  responsibility.  "A  few  minutes  after 
Mbame  had  spoken  .  .  .  the  slave  party,  a  long 
line  of  manacled  men,  women,  and  children,  came 
.  .  .  round  the  hill  and  into  the  valley.  .  .  . 
The  black  drivers,  armed  with  muskets,  and  bedecked 
with  various  articles  of  finery,  marched  jauntily  in 
the  front,  middle,  and  rear  of  the  Hne;  some  of  them 
blowing  exultant  notes  out  of  long  tin  horns.  They 
seemed  to  feel  that  they  were  doing  a  very  noble 
thing,  and  might  proudly  march  with  an  air  of 
triumph;  but  the  instant  the  fellows  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  English,  they  darted  off  like  mad  into  the  forest 
— so  fast,  indeed,  that  we  caught  but  a  glimpse  of 
their  red  caps  and  the  soles  of  their  feet.  The  chief 
of  the  party  alone  remained;  and  he,  from  being  in 
front,  had  his  hand  lightly  grasped  by  a  Makololo! 
He  proved  to  be  .  .  .  for  some  time  our  own 
attendant  [while  at  Tette].  On  asking  him  how  he 
obtained  these  captives,  he  replied  he  had  bought 
them;  but  on  our  inquiring  of  the  people  themselves, 
all,  save  four,  said  they  had  been  captured  in  war. 
While  this  inquiry  was  going  on,  he  bolted,  too.  The 
captives  knelt  down,  and,  in  their  way  of  expressing 
thanks,  clapped  their  hands  with  great  energy.  They 
were  thus  left  entirely  on  our  hands,  and  knives  were 
soon  busy  at  work,  cutting  the  women  and  children 


194 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


loose.  It  was  more  difficult  to  cut  the  men  adrift,  as 
each  had  his  neck  in  the  fork  of  a  stout  stick,  six  or 
seven  feet  long,  and  kept  in  by  an  iron  rod  which  was 
riveted  at  both  ends  across  the  throat.  With  a 
saw,  luckily  in  the  bishop's  baggage,  one  by  one  the 
men  were  sawn  out  into  freedom.  The  women,  on 
being  told  to  take  the  meal  they  were  carrying  and 
cook  breakfast  for  themselves  and  the  children, 
seemed  to  consider  the  news  too  good  to  be  true;  but, 
after  a  httle  coaxing,  went  at  it  with  alacrity,  and 
made  a  capital  fire  by  which  to  boil  their  pots  with  the 
slave  sticks  and  bonds.  .  .  .  Many  were  mere 
children  about  five  years  of  age  and  under.  .  .  . 
Two  of  the  women  had  been  shot  the  day  before  for 
attempting  to  untie  the  thongs.  This,  the  rest  were 
told,  was  to  prevent  them  from  attempting  to  escape. 
One  woman  had  her  infant's  brains  knocked  out  be- 
cause she  could  not  carry  her  load  and  it;  and  a  man 
was  dispatched  with  an  ax  because  he  had  broken 
down  with  fatigue.  .  .  .  The  bishop  was  not 
present  at  this  scene,  having  gone  to  bathe  in  a  little 
stream  below  the  village;  but  on  his  return  he  warmly 
approved  of  what  had  been  done.  .  .  .  Logic  is 
out  of  place  when  the  question  with  a  true-hearted 
man  is  whether  his  brother  man  is  to  be  saved  or  not. 
Eighty-four,  chiefly  women  and  children,  were  liber- 
ated; and  on  being  told  that  they  were  free,  and 
might  go  where  they  pleased,  or  remain  with  us,^they 
chose  to  stay;  and  the  bishop  wisely  attached  them  to 
his  Mission  to  be  educated  as  members  of  a  Christian 
family.    ..."  5 


SORROW   AND   APPARENT   DEFEAT  I95 

Livingstone's  religion  was  not  of  the  sort  to  forbid 
him  to  stir  a  finger  for  right  and  fair  play.  He  was 
anxious  enough  to  avoid  collisions,  as  all  true  men 
are,  but  there  were  evils  which  cried  aloud  for  the 
sword.  After  that,  for  a  time  the  party  seemed  to 
drift  toward  defiance.  Eight  more  slaves  were  re- 
leased at  a  near-by  hamlet.  The  news  of  their  mili- 
tancy grew,  and  at  the  tale  of  their  approach,  traders 
with  a  hundred  slaves  fled  to  hiding,  hotly  followed 
by  Dr.  Kirk  and  four  Makololo.  A  little  later  there 
was  a  releasing  of  six  more  slaves,  and  a  couple  of 
traders  were  captured  and  detained,  during  a  whole 
night,  by  way  of  preventing  the  carrying  of  news. 
The  next  day  fifty  more  slaves  were  set  free,  and, 
being  naked,  were  clothed  by  their  rescuers.  Nor 
was  their  day  of  militancy  done.  For  being  near  the 
place  where  two  tribes  were  at  war,  the  Ajawa  and  the 
Manganja,  both  having  been  inflamed  by  slavers,  the 
Ajawa  fired  on  the  exploring  party  with  poisoned 
arrows,  and  in  self-defense,  Livingstone's  men  fired 
on  the  natives,  though  without  attempting  to  do  more 
than  frighten  them. 

Pondering  all  that,  the  bishop  debated  whether  it 
would  not  be  better  for  him,  as  head  of  the  newly 
established  mission,  to  take  sides  with  the  Manganja, 
against  the  Ajawa.  But  Livingstone  opposed  any 
participation  in  native  quarrels.  In  his  ripened  ex- 
perience, he  knew  that  when  all  seemed  to  have  been 
said,  less  than  half  was  said,  and  there  were  compli- 
cations reaching  far  back,  and  other  complications 
stretching  wide.    So  the  bishop  was  persuaded  by 


196 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


Livingstone,  and,  while  learning  the  lay  of  the  coun- 
try, applied  himself  diligently  to  a  study  of  the  native 
dialects.  In  the  month  of  August,  bishop  and  ex- 
plorer parted,  the  former  comfortably  installed  on  a 
healthy  and  pleasant  spot  at  Magomero;  the  latter 
headed  for  Lake  Nyassa. 

The  Livingstone  party  had  a  tremendously  inter- 
esting time  on  Lake  Nyassa,  in  their  sailboat,  which 
had  been  carried  overland  by  willing  natives.  We 
have,  reading  the  Journals,  a  vision  of  the  low  line  of 
coast,  the  cleanness  of  a  new  country,  a  glorious  bird 
world,  little  sandy  bays  lined  with  curious  people, 
moonlight  nights  all  silver  cool,  waters  lapping  musi- 
cally on  the  boat's  black  bows.  We  see  Livingstone, 
lean  and  agile  as  a  harrier,  tanned  to  the  Hps,  his 
eyes  twinkhng  with  inward  joy.  Always  he  wears 
that  little  peaked  cap  with  the  gold  band,  a  head 
covering  ill-adapted,  one  would  think,  for  a  sub- 
tropical climate.  For  hours  on  end  he  is  observantly 
silent,  then  his  infinitely  inexhaustible  humor  bubbles 
forth.  Again  he  is  hard  and  enigmatical,  a  man 
alone  on  a  plane  of  which  the  others  know  nothing 
lost  in  his  vision  of  glorious  achievement. 

There  were  adventures  with  tattooed  natives, 
some  who  were  of  open-handed  hospitahty;  some, 
touched  by  the  slave-trade  virus,  who  robbed  them. 
They  passed  a  place  of  midges,  so  many  whirling 
clouds  of  them  that  it  was  as  if  a  mist  had  settled  on 
the  waters.  The  primitive  folk  in  that  place  had 
turned  the  pests  to  account,  catching  the  little  gnats 
and  making  cakes  of  them.    In  an  unexpected  place 


SORROW   AND   APPARENT   DEFEAT  I97 

they  saw  well-cared-for  burying  grounds  with  Httle 
paths  between  the  graves,  and  every  evidence  that 
the  bodies  had  been  buried  with  the  head  toward  the 
north.*  They  saw  fearful  evidences  of  the  slave 
trade,  such  evidence  in  the  way  of  skeletons  that 
Livingstone  came  to  the  startling  conclusion  that  for 
every  slave  captured  at  least  four  native  Uves  were 
spilled.  And  in  one  place  there  was  a  tribe  in  full 
career  toward  all  the  problems  of  privilege  and  land 
tenure  and  taxation  and  trusts,  for  a  chief  had  a  fish- 
ing monopoly,  with  metes  and  bounds  set  to  part  of 
the  lake,  and  no  one  had  arisen  to  compel  him  to 
yield  his  privilege. 

There  were  four  days  in  which  Livingstone,  with  a 
couple  of  Makololo,  was  absent  from  the  boat  party, 
giving  his  friends  great  concern.  The  three  took  a 
land  trip  and  ran  into  a  party  of  Zulus  who  blustered 
tremendously,  commanding  the  white  man  to  sit  in 
the  sun  while  they  themselves  sat  in  the  shade.  But 
with  that  strange  dispassionateness  of  his,  Living- 
stone took  the  situation  in  hand,  saying:  "If  you  sit 
in  the  shade,  so  will  we,"  and  made  himself  com- 
fortable. At  that,  the  Zulus  began  a  terror-inspiring 
shield  rattling  which  was  one  of  their  habits  when 
dealing  with  an  enemy.  But,  said  Livingstone  to 
them:  "It  is  not  the  first  time  we  have  heard  shields 
rattled."    Evidently,  by  a  kind  of  intuitive  process, 

*0n  the  sense  of  polarity  among  natives,  I  was  corresponoing  with  my 
friend  W.  H.  Hudson  at  the  time  of  his  death.  The  naturaHst  of  La  Plata 
had  heard  of  South  American  tribes,  the  members  of  which  always  slung 
their  hammocks  due  north  and  south,  and  buried  their  dead  with  the 
heads  pointing  northward,  and  was  tremendously  interested. 

1 


198  DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 

the  Zulus  read  the  white  man's  determination  and 
reahzed  that  all  their  array  of  paraphernalia  and 
ritual  was  of  no  avail.  Without  as  much  as  a  frown 
or  a  threatening  word,  Livingstone  had  gained 
ascendancy. 

The  exploration  of  the  lake  took  twenty-five  days, 
from  September  2  to  September  27,  1861,  and  the 
work  being  thoroughly  and  satisfactorily  done,  the 
party  made  a  way  to  the  coast,  reaching  the  Great 
Luabo  mouth  of  the  Zambesi  a  few  days  before  the 
arrival  of  the  English  cruiser  Gorgon.  Seeing  it  on 
the  horizon,  Livingstone  in  the  Pioneer  steamed  out 
to  meet  the  ship  and: 

"I  have  steamboat  in  the  brig,"  signaled  the 
Gorgon,  referring  to  the  twenty-four  sections  of  the 
Lady  Nyassa,  especially  designed  for  lake  service. 

"Welcome  news,"  flashed  back  Livingstone. 

"Your  wife  aboard,"  was  the  next  signal. 

"Accept  my  best  thanks,"  went  from  the  Pioneer. 

But  on  the  heels  of  that  good  news  came  a  tale  of 
calamity,  told  by  native  to  native,  carried  from  the 
mission  established  by  Livingstone  for  Bishop  Mac- 
kenzie. The  bishop  had  sent  out  an  exploring  party 
from  the  mission,  and  the  party  was  attacked,  some 
escaping,  but  others  being  captured  by  tribes  incensed 
and  made  suspicious  by  slave-raiders.  The  militant 
missionaries  rescued  the  prisoners  and  burned  the 
village  by  way  of  punitive  measures.  Returning, 
"wet,  weary,  and  tormented  by  mosquitoes,  they  lay 
in  thetcanoe  till  morning  dawned,  and  then  proceeded 
to  Malo,  an  island  at  the  mouth  of  the  Rue,  where 


SORROW   AND   APPARENT   DEFEAT  I99 

the  bishop  was  at  once  seized  by  fever."  The  Mako- 
lolo,  "day  by  day  for  three  weeks  .  .  .  remained 
beside  his  mat  on  the  floor,  till,  without  medicine  or 
even  proper  food,  he  died.  They  dug  his  grave  on 
the  edge  of  the  deep  dark  forest  where  the  natives 
buried  their  dead.  Mr.  Burrup,  himself  far  gone  with 
dysentery,  staggered  from  the  hut,  and,  as  in  the 
dusk  of  evening  they  committed  the  bishop's  body 
to  the  grave,  repeated  from  memory  portions  of  our 
beautiful  service  for  the  Burial  of  the  Dead.  .  .  . 
The  Makololo  then  took  Mr.  Burrup  up  in  the  canoe 
as  far  as  they  could  go,  and,  making  a  Htter  of 
branches,  carried  him  themselves,  or  got  others  to 
carry  him,  all  the  way  back  to  his  countrymen  at 
Magomero.  They  hurried  him  on  lest  he  should  die 
on  their  hands,  and  blame  be  attached  to  them. 
Soon  after  his  return,  he  expired  from  the  disease 
which  was  on  him  when  he  started." 

So  the  mission  was  wrecked,  and  tongues  in  Eng- 
land wagged  freely  in  denunciation  of  what  they 
called  missions  with  a  sword,  some  who  knew  nothing 
at  all  about  it  declaring  that  "the  warlike  measures 
of  the  mission  were  the  consequences  of  following  Dr. 
Livingstone's  advice."  And  Livingstone,  the  heart 
of  flame,  the  man  all  self-surrender,  this  Livingstone 
who  had  advised  the  bishop  to  refrain  from  participa- 
tion in  native  disputes  and  had  himself  done  so — this 
David  Livingstone  capable  of  friendship  with  a  sword, 
like  a  true  knight  flung  his  challenge  to  those  at  home 
and  elsewhere,  declaring  that  he,  too,  would  have 
acted  as  did  the  bishop,  in  similar  case,  so  that  fault- 


2(X) 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


finders  who  sat  in  armchair  ease,  having  Livingstone's 
words,  could  blame  not  the  dead  but  the  living.  "I 
shall  not  swerve  a  hair's  breadth  from  my  work  while 
life  is  spared,"  he  wrote  to  the  Bishop  of  Capetown. 

And  then  came  this,  as  reported  by  Charles  Living- 
stone: "During  unhealthy  April,  the  fever  was  more 
severe  in  Shupanga  and  Mazaro  than  usual.  We 
had  several  cases  on  board;  they  were  quickly  cured, 
but,  from  our  being  in  the  delta,  as  quickly  returned. 
About  the  middle  of  the  month  Mrs.  Livingstone  was 
prostrated  by  this  disease;  and  it  was  accompanied  by 
obstinate  vomiting.  Nothing  is  yet  known  that  can 
allay  this  distressing  symptom,  which  of  course 
renders  medicine  of  no  avail,  as  it  is  instantly  re- 
jected. She  received  whatever  medical  aid  could  be 
rendered  from  Dr.  Kirk,  but  became  unconscious,  and 
her  eyes  were  closed  in  the  sleep  of  death  as  the  sun 
set  on  the  Christian  Sabbath,  the  27th  of  April,  1862. 
A  coffin  was  made  during  the  night,  a  grave  was  dug 
next  day  under  the  branches  of  the  great  baobab  tree, 
and  with  sympathizing  hearts  the  little  band  of  his 
countrymen  assisted  the  bereaved  husband  in  burying 
his  dead.  At  his  request  the  Reverend  James 
Stewart  read  the  burial  service^  and  the  seamen 
kindly  volunteered  to  mount  guard  for  some  nights 
at  the  spot  where  her  body  rests  in  hope.  Those  who 
are  not  aware  how  this  brave,  good  English  wife 
made  a  delightful  home  at  Kolobeng,  a  thousand 
miles  inland  from  the  Cape,  and  as  the  daughter  of 
MofFat  and  a  Christian  lady  exercised  most  beneficial 
influence  over  the  rude  tribes  of  the  interior,  may 


SORROW   AND   APPARENT   DEFEAT  20I 

wonder  that  she  should  have  braved  the  dangers  and 
toils  of  this  down-trodden  land.  She  knew  them  all, 
and,  in  the  disinterested  and  dutiful  attempt  to  re- 
new her  labors,  was  called  to  her  rest  instead.  Fiaty 
Domine,  voluntas  tua  /" 

Somehow  I  feel  it  to  be  an  offence  against  privacy 
to  quote  the  words  of  the  weary  man,  her  husband, 
dumbly  bewildered  by  the  blows  of  an  unkind  fate. 
So  let  these  words  satisfy,  words  wrung  from  the 
heart  of  the  man  of  an  infinity  of  tender  patience: 
"Oh,  my  Mary,  my  Mary!  How  often  we  have  longed 
for  a  quiet  home  since  you  and  I  were  cast  adrift  at 
Kolobeng!" 

David  Livingstone,  master  of  himself  in  the  agony 
of  his  loss,  could  not  sit  down  in  any  mood  of  broken- 
hearted self-indulgence  in  grief.  To  do  that  would 
achieve  nothing,  certainly  would  not  take  the  sting 
out  of  bereavement.  There  was  the  bitterness  of 
separation,  but  he  would  not  allow  that  to  cast  a 
shadow  on  the  happiness  of  others.  Calmly,  he 
triumphed  over  sorrow.  If  he  owed  a  duty  to  the 
dead,  he  would  transmute  that  remembered  duty  into 
service  to  the  living.  And  the  duty  nearest  to  hand 
was  the  doing  of  what  could  be  done  to  end  the  slave 
trade.  He  wanted  to  be  assured  that  there  was  no 
other  water  way  to  Lake  Nyassa  than  by  the  Zambesi. 
If  no  other  way  existed,  then  the  patrolling  of  the 
inland  sea  by  a  British  boat  would  be  all  the  easier. 
Also,  with  that  strain  of  mysticism  which  is  in  all 
of  us  in  varied  degrees,  he  felt  that  in  some  mysterious 


202 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


way  his  wife's  grave  by  the  Zambesi  was  an  influence 
for  good.  "It  may  seem  weak  to  feel  a  chord  vibrat- 
ing to  the  dust  of  her  who  rests  on  the  banks  of  the 
Zambesi,"  he  wrote  to  Sir  Roderick  Murchison, 
"and  to  think  that  the  path  by  that  is  consecrated 
by  her  remains." 

And  he  was  assured  that  there  was  no  other  water 
way  to  the  Nyassa,  not  by  report  or  hearsay,  but  by 
going  up  the  only  likely  river,  the  Rovuma,  to  the 
distance  of  a  hundred  and  fifty-six  miles.  That 
point  being  settled,  and  the  river  Shire  having  risen, 
on  the  tenth  day  of  January,  1863,  in  the  Pioneer, 
with  the  Lady  Nyassa  in  tow,  he  started  for  Nyassa. 
His  intention,  in  a  word,  was  to  take  the  Lady  Nyassa 
somehow  to  the  Lake,  if  he  had  to  take  her  to  pieces  | 
and  make  a  road  for  carriers  of  the  parts,  then  recon- 
struct and  launch  her.  It  is  incredible  that  a  man 
should  dream  such  a  dream,  but  he  did  more  than 
dream.  "We  believed  that,  if  it  were  possible  to 
get  a  steamer  upon  the  Lake,  we  could,  by  her  means, 
put  a  check  on  the  slavers  from  the  East  Coast,  and 
aid  more  effectually  still  in  the  suppression  of  the 
slave  trade  by  introducing  ...  a  lawful  trade 
in  ivory.  We  therefore  unscrewed  the  Lady  Nyassa 
at  a  rivulet  about  five  hundred  yards  below  the  first 
cataract,  and  began  to  make  a  road  over  the  thirty- 
five  or  forty  miles  of  land  portage  by  which  to  carry 
her  up  piecemeal.  After  mature  consideration,  we 
could  not  imagine  a  more  noble  work  of  benevolence 
than  thus  to  introduce  light  and  liberty  into  a  quarter 
of  this  fair  earth  which  human  lust  has  converted 


SORROW   AND   APPARENT   DEFEAT  2O3 

into  the  nearest  possible  resemblance  of  what  we 
conceive  the  infernal  regions  to  be,  and  we  sacrificed 
much  of  our  private  resources  as  an  offering  for  the 
promotion  of  a  good  cause." 

Mark  that  "we  sacrificed  much  of  our  private  re- 
sources." In  plain  language  it  means  that  Dr. 
Livingstone  had  spent,  out  of  his  own  money,  salary 
and  royalties  from  his  book,  more  than  $30,000  in  re- 
fitting and  doing  work  on  the  Lady  Nyassa,  and  in 
paying  natives  to  make  the  road  across  country! 
And  then,  when  all  was  well  under  way,  though 
Livingstone  himself  was  looking  after  matters  while 
suffering  from  dysentery,  the  long  arm  of  govern- 
ment reached  out  across  oceans  and  continents,  with 
a  notification  from  Lord  John  Russell  that  the  expedi- 
tion was  recalled.  It  was  the  effect  of  international 
policies,  and  understandings,  between  statesmen, 
and  all  that  kind  of  thing.  The  local  Portuguese 
had  made  representations  to  their  government  that 
Livingstone  was  a  disturbing  influence,  and  men  in 
office  had  whispered  and  pondered  and  looked  wise, 
then  the  English  Foreign  Office  had  taken  a  hand 
diplomatically,  with  intent  to  preserve  national 
amities,  so  there  was  an  end  of  things.  After  Decem- 
ber, Livingstone's  emoluments  as  consul-explorer 
would  cease,  and  he  would  have  nothing  with  which 
to  pay  his  men.  There  being  no  choice,  he  had  to 
stop  work,  cease  his  explorations  of  the  lake  lands, 
pack  up  and  turn  his  face  homeward.  To  make  mat- 
ters worse,  he  had  just  heard  of  a  great  lake  called 
Bamba,  or  Bangweolo,  never  seen  by  white  man,  and, 


204 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


in  his  exploration,  had  been  within  ten  days'  march 
of  it.  But  there  was  authority,  bUnd,  unknowing, 
and  persistent;  authority  seeking  no  enlightenment, 
no  explanation. 

So  Livingstone  and  his  men,  undaunted  in  spite  of 
all,  tramped  seven  hundred  and  sixty  miles  on  the 
back  trail,  doing  the  distance  in  fifty-five  days,  over 
a  hard-baked  soil  and  through  a  tsetse  fly  infested 
country.  As  for  diplomacy,  or  rather  the  lack  of  it 
with  regard  to  the  man  on  the  firing  line,  there  is  this 
passage  in  the  Journal,  a  very  significant  one  indeed: 
"We  had  received  orders  from  the  Foreign  Office 
to  take  the  Pioneer  down  to  the  sea.  .  .  .  The 
salaries  of  all  the  men  in  her  were  positively  'in  any 
case  to  cease  by  the  31st  of  December.'  The  dis- 
patch from  the  Foreign  Office  having  been  sent  open 
to  the  Governor  of  the  Cape,  it  seems  to  have  been 
forwarded  in  the  same  free-and-easy  way  to  its 
destination;  for  the  new  bishop's  chaplain  had  com- 
mented freely  before  a  number  of  Portuguese  .  .  . 
on  its  diff'erent  paragraphs,  and  more  especially  on  the 
omission  of  all  notice  of  the  Lady  Nyassa.  When  his 
servant  brought  it  up  to  the  Pioneer,  he  hailed  the 
crew  in  strong  Surrey  dialect  with,  'I  say,  no  more 
pay  for  you  chaps  after  December;  I  brings  the  letter 
as  says  it.'  Though  we  never  for  a  single  moment 
entertained  the  idea  that  this  grossly  disrespectful 
way  of  treating  a  dispatch  from  H.  M.  principal 
Secretary  of  State  for  Foreign  Aff'airs  was  anything 
more  than  the  result  of  want  of  knowledge  of  the 


SORROW   AND   APPARENT   DEFEAT  205 

world  on  the  part  of  those  who  had  probably  never 
in  their  Hves  seen  a  government  dispatch  before,  yet 
the  conviction  that  all  the  Pioneer's  men  knew  that 
their  wages  might  not  be  forthcoming  if  we  were  in 
the  river  after  December,  had  some  influence  on  a 
mind  borne  down  by  that  most  depressing  of  diseases, 
dysentery." 

But  what  that  sending  of  the  kitchen  knave  to  the 
hero  who  deserved  a  chief  knight  meant,  in  the  way  of 
turmoil  in  the  heart,  we  do  not  know  and  can  only 
dimly  guess.  At  any  rate,  we  find  no  expressed 
bitterness.  We  do  find  this  piece  of  tender  sympathy, 
though,  and  reading  the  little  story,  the  man  Living- 
stone seems  to  spring  into  new  stateliness.  "As  we 
were  sleeping  one  night,  outside  a  hut,  but  near 
enough  to  hear  what  was  going  on  within,  an  anxious 
mother  began  to  grind  her  corn  about  two  o'clock  in 
the  morning.  *Ma,'  inquired  a  little  girl,  'why 
grind  in  the  dark?'  Mamma  advised  sleep,  and  ad- 
ministered material  for  a  sweet  dream  to  fier  darhng 
by  saying,  *I  grind  meal  to  buy  a  cloth  from  the 
strangers  which  will  make  you  look  like  a  little  lady.' " 
Livingstone  adds  this,  "An  observer  of  these  primi- 
tive races  is  struck  continually  with  such  little  trivial 
touches  of  genuine  human  nature." 

Nor  was  it  by  any  design  that  Livingstone  tells  the 
story  hot  on  the  heels  of  the  tale  of  the  wrongful 
doings  of  men  and  of  the  message  from  his  Foreign 
Oflftce.  For  he  was  the  very  soul  of  high  patriotism 
and  order  and  obedience.    Indeed,  the  selflessness  of 


206 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


the  man  is  almost  incomprehensible.  He  was  cheer- 
ful and  undaunted  under  a  catastrophe  which  would 
have  broken  most  men. 

Note,  too,  this  example  of  tolerance;  this  whole- 
some refusal  to  impose  his  preferences  on  others,  so 
entirely  characteristic  of  the  man.  He  is  writing  of 
the  natives  who,  after  harvesting,  make  merry  with 
honest  cakes  and  ale,  not  stinting  themselves  in  the 
least.  "None  but  a  churl  would  grudge  them  this, 
the  enjoyment,  though  a  poor  one,  of  their  lives. 
Bless  their  hearts,  let  them  rejoice  in  the  fruits  of 
their  labor!  We  confess,  however,  that  we  have 
never  witnessed  the  plenty  which  their  land  yields 
without  turning  in  imagination  to  the  streets  and 
lanes  of  our  cities,  and  lamenting  that  the  squalid  off- 
spring of  poverty  and  sin  had  not  more  pleasant  lives 
in  this  world,  where  there  is  so  much  and  to  spare." 

We  see  Livingstone  at  this  time  as  a  man  who  had 
suffered  great  personal  sorrow,  who  had  seen  his  plans  ^j 
swept  away  by  a  clumsy  hand,  and  who  thought  that 
his  most  important,  careful,  and  arduous  labors  had 
been  suddenly  made  fruitless.    We  imagine  him 
regarded  by  the  Portuguese  as  defeated,  certainly 
cordially  hated  as  the  would-be  destroyer  of  a  very 
profitable  trade.    For  there  he  was,  recalled  by  his  i 
government,  facing  the  prospect  of  selling  his  only  ■ 
means  of  transport,  the  Lady  Nyassa,  to  those  who 
would  use  the  ship  for  the  very  purposes  he  had  given 
his  Ufe  to  destroy.    At  this  point  it  will  be  well  for^| 
any  reader  to  take  a  map  of  Africa  and  trace  a  course, 
be  it  ever  so  roughly,  from  Lake  Nyassa  down  to  the 


SORROW   AND   APPARENT   DEFEAT  20/ 

mouth  of  the  river,  and  then  across  the  sea  channel 
to  Mozambique.  That  being  done,  let  a  ruler  be 
set  across  the  map  in  such  wise  that  it  touches 
Mozambique,  and  Bombay  in  India,  thus  crossing 
2,500  miles  and  more  of  sea.  So  shall  some  idea  be 
formed  of  the  bold  venture  made  by  David  Living- 
stone. For,  at  Mozambique,  finding  himself  in  sad 
coils,  he  severed  them  with  a  sharp  resolve  and  went 
direct  to  his  goal.  That  he  would  dare  to  navigate 
the  little  ship  built  for  river  traffic  across  those  miles 
of  ocean  is  unthinkable.  Yet  that  very  thing  he  did, 
and,  if  Bombay  and  other  near  sea  ports  had  been  in 
the  hands  of  the  Portuguese,  he  would  have  sailed 
around  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  and  up  the  Atlantic — 
or  he  would  have  sunk  the  ship  in  deep  waters  and 
walked  to  England  rather  than  give  as  much  as  one 
stick,  line,  or  rope  of  her  to  the  dealers  in  human  flesh. 

So,  with  seven  Zambesi  natives,  two  boys,  and 
three  Europeans  who  were  to  act  as  fireman  and 
sailor  and  carpenter.  Captain  Livingstone  took  com- 
mand, pulling  up  anchor  on  April  30,  1864,  and  drop- 
ping it  in  Bombay  harbor,  June  13th,  with  a  clean 
bill  of  health  for  all  on  board.  And  there  he  was,  for 
a  few  days,  paying  his  men  off,  seeing  to  the  docking 
of  his  craft,  a  man  iron-gray  and  wrinkled  and 
resolute,  doing  all  well  and  thoroughly,  hke  any  sea- 
soned skipper.  He  talked  business  for  a  while,  half 
deciding  to  sell  his  ship,  but  so  small  a  vessel  had 
little  value  in  those  seas.  Besides,  as  he  tells  us: 
"with  the  thought  of  parting  with  her,  arose  more 
strongly  than  ever  the  feeling  of  disinclination  to 


208 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


abandon  the  East  Coast  of  Africa  to  the  Portuguese 
and  slave-trading,  and  I  determined  to  run  home  and 
consult  my  friends." 

To  clear  up  the  matter  of  the  Lady  Nyassa,  let  it 
be  said  that  Livingstone  did  sell  her,  but  that  was  on 
his  return,  when  he  took  the  equivalent  in  English 
money  of  $13,000,  which  was  not  quite  half  of  what 
he  had  spent  on  her.  The  proceeds  he  put  in  the 
Indian  Bank,  which  soon  afterward  failed,  so  that  all 
of  his  investment  was  finally  lost.  But  loss  of  money 
could  not  embitter  him,  and  he  accepted  the  news  with 
a  shrug  of  his  shoulders,  saying,  "The  cost  was  dedi- 
cated to  the  great  cause  for  which  she  was  built,"  and 
so  dismissed  the  matter.  But  that  is  getting  ahead 
of  the  story. 

At  Bombay  he  put  the  two  boys  of  his  crew  to 
school,  then  started  homeward  with  the  three  white 
sailors,  and  reached  London  on  July  10,  1864. 

.\lways  simple  and  uncomphcated,  direct  and 
obvious,  David  Livingstone  arrived  in  London,  took 
a  meal,  and,  travel-stained,  rumpled,  and  unmindful 
of  fashion  and  social  etiquette,  walked  to  the  house 
of  his  friend,  Sir  Roderick  Murchison,  and  knocked 
at  the  door.  He  looked  for  nothing  more  than  a  good 
talk  behind  closed  doors.  But  his  friend  saw  only 
the  hero  of  the  frontier,  who  should  not  come  quietly 
and  unannounced,  he  thought,  but  with  trumpets 
and  heralds,  to  be  greeted  by  the  highest  in  the  land. 
"So,"  runs  the  Journal,  "Sir  Roderick  took  me  off 
with  him,  just  as  I  was,  to  Lady  Palmerston's  recep- 


SORROW   AND   APPARENT   DEFEAT  20g 

tion.  My  lady  was  very  gracious.  Gave  me  tea 
herself.  Lord  Palmerston  looking  very  well.  Had 
two  conversations  with  him  about  the  slave  trade. 
Sir  Roderick  says  he  is  more  intent  on  maintaining 
his  policy  on  that  than  on  any  other  subject." 

A  little  later,  the  explorer  met  Lord  Russell  and 
found  him  "very  cold,"  at  which  he  wondered  much. 
For  Livingstone,  honorable  and  chivalrous  and  high- 
hearted because  of  his  ideal,  could  not  understand 
how  men  in  place  and  power  could  by  any  possibility 
be  petty,  fooHsh,  self-centered  because  of  their 
political  ambitions,  and  immured  in  generally  ac- 
cepted opinions.  He  thought  that  they  had  only  to 
be  shown  the  unpardonable  blunder  of  a  policy  that 
perpetuated  the  hideous  slave  trade,  and  at  once  all 
would  be  well.  As  he  saw  it  they  had  only  to  be 
shown  an  indubitably  fine  ideal,  and  one  and  all 
would  leap  to  give  it  existence. 

But  there  were  party  politics,  and  Russell-Palmer- 
ston  antagonisms;  there  were  diplomatic  angularities 
and  stiffnesses;  there  were  egoisms  and  jealousies  and 
strivings.  Also,  the  nations  were  thick  in  the  nation- 
alistic and  imperialistic  struggles  of  the  Nineteenth 
Century,  and  because  of  his  activities,  it  came  about 
that  David  Livingstone  was  an  important  piece  on 
the  chessboard  on  which  English  and  Portuguese 
politicians  played  the  international  game  for  the 
partition  of  Africa. 

But  the  explorer,  in  his  single-mindedness,  knew 
nothing  of  that,  and  had  he  known  or  realized  it, 
would  not  have  greatly  concerned  himself.  He 


2IO 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


saw  only  that  one  all-embracing  problem.  He  had 
his  plans  for  the  future,  and  set  them  forth  to  any 
who  cared  to  hear,  in  no  uncertain  way,  thus:  "I  pro- 
pose to  go  inland  north  of  the  territory  which  the 
Portuguese  in  Europe  claim,  and  endeavor  to  com- 
mence that  system  on  the  East,  which  has  been  so 
eminently  successful  on  the  West  Coast,  a  system 
combining  the  repressive  efforts  of  H.  M.  cruisers 
with  lawful  trade  and  Christian  missions,  the  moral 
and  material  results  of  which  have  been  so  gratifying. 
I  hope  to  ascend  the  Rovuma,  or  some  other  river 
north  of  Cape  Delgado,  and  in  addition  to  my  other 
work  shall  strive,  by  passing  along  the  northern  end 
of  Lake  Nyassa,  and  round  the  southern  end  of  Lake 
Tanganyika,  to  ascertain  the  water-shed  of  that  part 
of  Africa.  In  so  doing,  I  have  no  wish  to  unsettle 
what,  with  so  much  toil  and  danger,  was  accomplished 
by  Speke  and  Grant,  but  rather  to  confirm  their  illus- 
trious discoveries." 

Such  then  was  the  plan  of  the  man  who  was  touch- 
ing his  fifty-third  year,  whose  wife's  life  had  been 
given  to  the  cause  he  had  at  heart,  and  whose  eldest 
son  Robert  had  fought  against  slavery  in  the  Federal 
army  and  been  buried  at  Gettysburg.  And  behind 
that  very  practical  plan  was  the  desire  to  frustrate 
those  who,  in  the  name  of  trade,  crushed  and  demoral- 
ized and  degraded  the  African  natives;  whose  work 
was  one  of  conquest  and  spoliation;  whose  thirst  for 
wealth  meant  tears  and  destruction  and  blood- 
spilling;  whose  activities  meant  chaos. 

For  nine  months,  Livingstone  was  in  England, 


SORROW   AND   APPARENT   DEFEAT  211 


lecturing,  working  incessantly  to  interest  men  in  his 
cause;  and  writing  his  second  book.  He  appeared 
before  a  House  of  Commons  committee  to  enter  his 
warm  protest  against  England's  "monstrous  mistake 
as  to  missionaries,"  as  a  blot  on  Britain's  escutcheon. 
Of  sorrow  and  loss  and  severed  ties  he  said  nothing, 
he  did  not  try  to  vindicate  his  personal  reputation 
when  it  was  attacked,  but  was  always  ready  and 
willing  to  talk  of  his  high  mission — to  churchmen, 
to  statesmen,  to  schoolboys.  Indeed,  one  of  his  last 
addresses  was  to  the  scholars  of  the  school  in  which 
his  son  Oswell  was  being  educated,  and  in  that  ad- 
dress his  farewell  words  were  "Work  hard!" 

At  last,  according  to  H,  M.  Stanley's  report  of  a 
conversation  with  the  explorer.  Sir  Roderick  Murchi- 
son  one  day  approached  Livingstone  and  told  him 
that  the  Royal  Geographical  Society  was  resolved  to 
send  an  expedition  to  Africa  to  solve  the  problem  of 
the  watershed  between  the  Nyassa  and  the  Tangan- 
yika lakes,  whereupon  Livingstone  suggested  a  well- 
known  man  for  the  honor  of  being  leader.  But  the 
nominee  "declined  to  proceed  to  Africa  on  the 
strength  of  nothing  more  than  a  verbal  promise  of  a 
reward,"  whereupon  the  old  war-horse  offered  himself 
for  the  task,  money  or  no^ money.  What  the  govern- 
ment finally  gave  was  a  pitiful  sum  of  ^2,500  towards 
the  expenses  of  the  expedition,  and  the  title  of  Consul 
without  salary,  a  proceeding  which  closely  parallels 
the  support  given  to  Magellan  by  the  Spanish  king. 
And,  in  Livingstone's  case,  as  in  Magellan's,  the 
burden  of  the  expense  was  borne  by  private  individ- 


212 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


uals,  for  a  friend  who  chose  to  remain  anonymous 
sent  ^5,000,  the  Royal  Geographical  Society  $2,500, 
A  third  journey  was  assured. 

Livingstone's  detached  and  selfless  devotion  to  his 
ideal  made  him  fail  to  realize  the  possible  needs, 
beyond  immediate  necessities,  of  his  own  kindred. 
His  children  might  have  suffered  if  the  anonymous 
friend  who  supported  the  expedition  had  not  seen  to  it 
that  they  did  not  want  for  anything.  The  dangerous 
and  almost  fanatical  aspect  of  Livingstone's  devotion 
to  his  purpose  is  easy  to  mention  with  a  curl  of  the 
lip,  but  for  me  it  only  adds  strangely  to  the  grandeur 
of  that  great  passion.  When  the  Premier,  Earl 
Russell,  sent  Mr.  Hayward,  his  representative,  to 
Livingstone  to  discover  a  way  in  which  the  explorer 
might  be  rewarded  for  his  labors,  the  veteran  traveler 
made  answer:  "If  you  stop  the  Portuguese  slave 
trade,  you  will  gratify  me  beyond  measure."  That 
was  all. 


CHAPTER  X 


DRAWING  THE  MAP  OF  AFRICA 


IVINGSTONE  went  via  Paris,  where  he  left  his 


I  J  daughter  Agnes  at  school,  to  Bombay.  He  left 
England  on  August  15,  1865,  and  landed  in  India  in 
September.  At  the  earUest  opportunity,  he  crossed 
to  Zanzibar,  taking  with  him  nine  volunteers,  Nas- 
sick  boys  all,  from  the  government  school  for  Africans. 
At  Zanzibar  there  was  a  two-month  wait  for  the 
Penguin^  a  cruiser,  and  it  is  there  that  the  last  Journal 
commences,  the  first  entry  being  dated  January  28, 


The  start  from  Zanzibar  for  Africa  was  made  on 
March  19th,  and  three  days  later  they  anchored  in 
Rovuma  Bay,  two  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  river 
which  was  to  be  explored.  The  party  was  made 
up  of  the  nine  Nassick  boys,  most  of  them  possessed 
of  the  slave  spirit  and  unsatisfactory;  thirteen  Sepoys 
who  had  been  drafted  from  the  Marine  Battalion  by 
order  of  Sir  Bartle  Frere,  Governor  of  Bombay;  ten 
Johanna  men;  two  Shupanga  men,  and  two  Waiyaus 
men.  The  two  last  were  named  Wakatani  and 
Chuma,  both  of  the  party  of  slaves  rescued  by  Living- 
stone and  Bishop  Mackenzie  in  1861.  One  of  the 
Johanna  men,  a  former  Lady  Nyassa  hand,  was  named 
Musa.    Two  others  had  long  been  known  to  Living- 


1866. 


214 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


Stone.  They  were  Susi  and  Amoda,  both  former 
wood-cutters  with  the  Pioneer.  Of  animals,  there 
were  six  camels,  three  buffaloes  and  a  calf,  two  mules, 
four  donkeys,  and  a  friendly  and  lively  poodle  named 
Chitanpe.  Livingstone  was  greatly  interested  to 
observe  the  effect  of  the  tsetse  fly  on  the  camels  and 


DRAWING   THE    MAP   OF   AFRICA  215 

mules,  and  noted  carefully  how  the  camels  and  bufFalo 
had  suffered  from  bruising  on  the  sea  voyage. 

For  himself  there  was  a  sense  of  exultation  at  the 
prospect  of  travel  in  an  unknown  land.  He  wrote: 
'"Now  that  I  am  on  the  point  of  starting  on  another 
trip  into  Africa,  I  feel  quite  exhilarated;  when  one 
travels  with  the  specific  object  in  view  of  ameliorating 
the  condition  of  the  natives,  every  act  becomes  en- 
nobled. .  .  .  The  mere  animal  pleasure  of 
travehng  in  a  wild,  unexplored  country  is  very  great. 
When  on  lands  of  a  couple  of  thousand  feet  elevation, 
brisk  exercise  imparts  elasticity  to  the  muscles,  fresh 
and  healthy  blood  circulates  through  the  brain,  the 
mind  works  well,  the  eye  is  clear,  the  step  is  firm,  and 
a  day's  exertion  always  makes  the  evening's  repose 
thoroughly  enjoyable."  So  we  have  the  man  in 
a  state  of  perfect  coordination  and  thoroughly  con- 
scious of  the  fact.  He  was  full  of  what  Richard 
JefFeries  called  the  passion  of  life,  pleased  with  the 
vehemence  of  exertion.  To  quote  the  Journal:  "The 
effect  of  travel  on  a  man  whose  heart  is  in  the  right 
place  is  that  the  mind  is  made  more  self-reliant;  it 
becomes  more  confident  of  its  own  resources — there 
is  a  greater  presence  of  mind.  The  body  is  soon  well 
knit;  the  muscles  of  the  limbs  grow  as  hard  as  a  board 
and  seem  to  have  no  fat;  the  countenance  is  bronzed 
and  there  is  no  dyspepsia.  .  .  .  No  doubt  much 
toil  is  involved,  and  fatigue  of  which  travelers  in  the 
more  temperate  climes  can  form  but  a  faint  con- 
ception; but  the  sweat  of  one's  brow  is  no  longer  a 
curse  when  one  works  for  God;  it  proves  a  tonic  to 


2l6 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


the  system,  and  is  actually  a  blessing."  And  with 
the  delight  that  came  because  he  lived  in  touch  with 
nature,  there  was  the  sense  of  fellowship.  "Our  sym- 
pathies are  drawn  out  toward  our  humble,  hardy  com- 
panions by  a  community  of  interests,  and  it  may  be 
of  perils,  which  makes  us  all  friends.  Nothing  but 
the  most  pitiable  puerility  would  lead  any  manly 
heart  to  make  their  inferiority  a  theme  for  self- 
exultation;  however,  that  is  often  done,  as  if  with  the 
vague  idea  that  we  can,  by  magnifying  their  defi- 
ciencies, demonstrate  our  immaculate  perfections." 

There,  surely,  is  enough  to  show  the  error  of  those 
who  have  declared  that  Livingstone  was  a  physically 
broken  and  disheartened  man  when  he  started  on  his 
third  and  most  stupendous  journey.  And,  because 
of  what  was  to  happen  at  Lake  Nyassa,  it  is  important 
as  showing  the  falsity  of  the  charge  that  Livingstone 
was  prejudiced  against  some  of  his  men  because  of 
their  race. 

Before  the  middle  of  April,  they  were  in  dense 
jungle,  with  trees  so  vine-twined  as  to  "present  the 
appearance  of  a  ship's  ropes  and  cables  shaken  in 
among  them,"  some  of  the  cHmbing  plants  curiously 
formed  in  such  fashion  that  "the  species  seems  to  be 
eager  for  mischief."  The  explorer  knew  no  name  for 
the  danger  plant,  but  likens  it  to  the  scabbard  of  a 
dragoon's  sword  with  a  ridge  along  the  middle  of  the 
flat  side  "from  which  springs  up  every  few  inches  a 
bunch  of  inch-long  thorns.  It  hangs  straight  for  a 
couple  of  yards,  but,  as  if  it  could  not  give  its  thorns 
a  fair  chance  of  mischief,  it  suddenly  bends  on  itself, 


DRAWING   THE    MAP   OF   AFRICA  ZIJ 

and  all  its  cruel  points  are  now  at  right  angles  to 
what  they  were  before.  Darwin's  observation  shows 
a  great  deal  of  what  looks  like  instinct  in  these  climb- 
ers .  .  .  tangled  limbs  hang  out  ready  to  inflict 
injury  on  all  passers-by."  Through  that  tangle  of 
fantastic  vegetation,  which  was  also  a  region  of  the 
tsetse  fly,  they  had  to  cut  their  way,  and  to  do  so 
Livingstone  engaged  natives,  paying  them  one  yard  of 
calico  per  day. 

The  Sepoys  were  slow  on  the  march,  and  they  were 
cruel  to  the  beasts  of  burden;  to  their  strange  cruelty 
Livingstone  found  that  much  was  to  be  attributed 
which  he  had  charged  to  the  eff"ects  of  climate  and 
insects.  There  was  the  Sepoy  Pando,  for  example, 
not  only  a  drunkard  and  a  thief  but  worse.  One  day 
Livingstone  caught  him  belaboring  a  camel  with  a 
stick  the  size  of  a  man's  airo.  The  next  day  the 
animal  was  unable  to  use  its  leg,  and  inflammation 
was  in  the  hip  joint.  "  I  am  afraid  that  several  bruises 
which  have  festered  on  the  camels  and  were  to  me 
unaccountable,  have  been  wilfully  bestowed,"  wrote 
Livingstone,  and  soon  found  his  suspicions  confirmed. 
On  the  last  day  of  April  came  another  entry  making 
note  of  "many  ulcers  on  the  camels.  .  .  .  They 
come  back  from  pasture,  bleeding  in  a  way  that  no 
rubbing  against  a  tree  would  account  for,  I  am  sorry 
to  suspect  foul  play;  the  buffaloes  and  mules  are 
badly  used,  but  I  cannot  be  always  near  to  prevent 
it."  A  week  later  there  is  recorded  an  alarming  state 
of  affairs.  "A  camel  died  during  the  night,  and  the 
gray  buffalo  is  in  convulsions  this  morning.  The 


2l8 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


cruelty  of  these  Sepoys  vitiates  my  experiment,  and  I 
quite  expect  many  camels,  one  buffalo,  and  one  mule 
to  die  yet;  they  sit  down  and  smoke  and  eat,  leaving 
the  animals  loaded  in  the  sun.  If  I  am  not  with 
them  it  is  a  constant  dawdling;  they  are  evidently 
unwilling  to  exert  themselves;  they  cannot  carry 
their  belts  and  bags,  and  their  powers  of  eating  and 
vomiting  are  astounding.  .  .  .  We  have  not 
averaged  four  miles  a  day  in  a  straight  line,  yet  the 
animals  have  often  been  kept  in  the  sun  for  eight 
hours  at  a  stretch.  When  we  get  up  at  4  a.  m.,  we 
cannot  get  under  way  before  eight  o'clock.  Sej)oys 
are  a  mistake."  Employment  of  the  Sepoys  had 
proved  to  be  an  error,  a  sad  one  out  of  which  grew 
tremendous  trouble.  There  were  evidences  of  fiend- 
ish cruelty.  Day  after  day  the  transport  animals 
came  in  wounded,  one  with  a  mysterious  round  hole 
from  which  a  pelvic  bone  protruded,  another  bleeding 
profusely.  If  Livingstone  was  not  there  to  watch, 
the  animals  were  overloaded  and  badly  harnessed, 
then  terribly  beaten  because  of  their  inability  to 
travel  with  speed.  And  the  Nassick  boys  imitated 
the  Sepoys  in  studied  brutality.  Sometimes  animals 
fell  dead  from  no  ascertainable  cause,  and  on  June 
26th,  the  last  mule  was  buried.  Meanwhile,  things 
were  being  stolen;  not  only  food,  but  camp  utensils, 
and  for  eight  days  the  members  of  the  party  were 
reduced  to  the  eating  of  porridge  and  rice,  without 
relish. 

With  all  that,  Livingstone  looked  for  some  kind  of 
an  explosion,  and  it  came  after  the  explorer  had 


DRAWING   THE    MAP   OF   AFRICA  219 

pierced  his  way  to  Lake  Nyassa,  which  he  reached  on 
August  8th.  As  it  was  not  possible  to  cross  the  lake, 
such  canoes  as  were  there  being  owned  by  Arab  slave- 
traders,  Livingstone  led  his  party  southward  along 
the  lake  shore,  so  that  he  would  come  to  familiar 
country  at  the  southern  end  of  the  lake.  The  slave 
trade  had  done  fearful  work.  There  were  dead 
bodies  festering  in  the  sun;  skeletons  chained  to 
trees;  other  skeletons  with  the  slave  sticks  still  about 
their  necks  and  ax-holes  in  the  skulls.  And  at 
villages,  Arab  slave-dealers,  anxious  to  wreck  the 
Livingstone  expedition  but  afraid  to  make  an  open 
attack,  worked  on  the  fears  of  the  Sepoys  and  the 
Nassick  boys.  Then,  on  September  26th,  Musa, 
the  Johanna  malcontent,  became  central  in  affairs. 

Musa,  as  has  been  said,  knew  something  of  the 
ways  of  white  men,  and  knew  more  of  Livingstone 
and  his  positiveness.  The  man  was  evidently  a 
chronic  whiner  and  fault-finder,  not  without  sufficient 
sharpness  and  cunning  to  enable  him  to  hide  his 
intrigues  from  Livingstone.  He  had  a  lively  imagi- 
nation, too.  Naturally,  he  became  spokesman,  and 
told  Livingstone  that  the  Johanna  men  could  go  no 
farther.  They  were,  he  said,  utterly  exhausted.  As 
for  himself,  he  said  he  was  filled  with  desire  to  see 
his  home  and  his  parents.  Then  he  fell  to  discussing 
the  perils  of  the  country,  and  prophesying  failure 
for  the  expedition. 

Livingstone  listened  patiently,  but  showed  no 
signs  of  alarm  at  the  prospect  of  losing  what  had  been 
a  decided  liability  instead  of  an  asset,  for  the  ex- 


220 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


pedltion.  Nor  did  he  pay  any  tribute  to  the  value  of 
Musa  and  his  followers  in  the  way  of  persuasion. 
Instead  he  gave  the  word  to  march.  At  that,  the 
Johanna  men  threw  down  their  packages,  doubtless 
with  some  expectation  of  their  example  being  fol- 
lowed, but  it  was  not.  So  the  revolt  ended  as  swiftly 
as  it  had  commenced,  and  the  Johanna  men  were  left 
to  their  own  plans,  with  Musa  for  leader. 

And  Musa  led  his  malcontents  tothe  coast  in  safety, 
and  there,  to  account  for  his  reappearance,  hatched 
up  a  story  so  very  plausible  that  it  was  universally 
believed,  except  by  those  white  men  who  knew  the 
man.  Indeed,  such  was  its  ring  of  truth,  that  on 
publication  of  the  tale  many  who  had  entertained 
hopes  of  the  falsity  of  the  first  rumor,  gave  up  hope. 
The  news  of  Livingstone's  death  was  flashed  over  the 
world,  and  Musa's  story  impressed  those  who  ex- 
amined it  as  being  based  on  correctly  observed  fact. 
Indeed,  the  Geographical  Society  financed  and  sent 
out  an  expedition  under  Mr.  E.  D.  Young,  which 
sailed  from  England  on  July  9,  1867,  and  returned 
January  27,  1868.  The  expedition  did  not  find 
Livingstone,  but  its  report  relieved  anxiety.  It  had 
followed  Livingstone's  course  up  the  Shire,  past  the 
rapids  to  Lake  Nyassa,  some  of  Livingstone's  faith- 
ful Makololo  guiding  it.  Questions  put  to  the  lake 
natives  proved  beyond  a  doubt  that  Musa's  tale 
was  without  foundation,  and  that  Livingstone  had 
gone  past  the  Shire  valley  and  to  the  northeast. 
Later,  England  was  relieved  by  the  pubhcation  of  a 
letter  from  Livingstone,   dated  March   2,  1867. 


DRAWING   THE    MAP   OF   AFRICA  221 


There  were  also  well-founded  reports  received  on 
the  coast,  reports  passed  from  village  to  village,  and 
mouth  to  mouth,  from  Central  Africa,  which  ac- 

I    counted  for  the  explorer  more  or  less  vaguely,  up  to 

1    December,  1867. 

I  As  for  the  tale  told  by  Musa,  the  description  of 
actual  surroundings  and  the  dramatic  narrative 
are  very  moving  and  a  reading  of  it  as  it  was  pub- 
lished, will  show  how  in  England,  fear  must  have 

I    stalked  beside  every  hope.    The  following  extract 

!    is  from  the  Times  of  India: 

"The  hopes  raised  by  the  news  of  rumored  safety 
of  Dr.  Livingstone  have  speedily  been  dispelled,  and 
there  can  no  longer  be  any  doubt  that  he  was  killed 
by  a  savage  of  the  Mafite  tribe.  The  narrative  of 
the  Sepoy  belonging  to  the  Marine  Battalion  (21st 
Native  Infantry)  who  formed  one  of  the  Doctor's  es- 
cort, and  who  arrived  from  Zanzibar  in  the  Gazelle 
on  the  14th  of  May,  turns  out  to  be  altogether  in- 
accurate; and,  substantially,  the  tale  told  by  Musa  is 
proved  correct. 

"The  Nadir  Shah,  a  vessel  of  war  belonging  to  the 
Sultan  of  Zanzibar,  at  present  used  as  a  trader, 
reached  Bombay  on  the  15th  of  May  in  cargo;  and 
from  information  we  obtained  on  board  we  are  en- 
abled to  give  a  more  detailed  account  of  the  circum- 
stances in  connection  with  the  melancholy  story  of 
the  Doctor's  fate  than  has  yet  been  published.  The 
Nadir  Shah  left  Zanzibar  on  the  forenoon  of  the  28th 
of  March,  so  that  the  news  she  brings  is  nearly  a 

^   month  later  than  that  brought  by  the  Gazelle,  and 


1' 


222 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


three  days  later  than  the  last  dispatch  received  from 
Zanzibar  by  the  Bombay  Government. 

"Dr.  Livingstone  took  his  departure  from  Zanzi- 
bar in  March,  1866,  and  was  conveyed  by  her  Majes- 
ty's ship  Penguin  to  Mikindany,  near  the  mouth 
of  the  Rovuma  River.  The  expedition  consisted 
of  Dr.  Livingstone  and  thirty-five  men,  ten  of  whom 
were  natives  of  Johanna,  one  of  the  Comoro  Islands, 
thirteen  Africans,  and  twelve  Sepoys  of  the  Bombay 
Marine  BattaHon.  It  was  thought  by  Dr.  Living- 
stone that  these  Africans  would  be  of  service  to  him 
on  his  journey  into  the  interior.  The  Africans  were 
formerly  slaves,  who  had  been  Hberated  and  edu- 
cated in  the  Bombay  Presidency.  There  was  no 
other  European  in  the  party  except  Dr.  Livingstone 
himself.  The  beasts  taken  were — six  camels,  four 
buffaloes  from  Bombay,  five  asses,  and  two  mules, 
and  among  the  baggage  were  forage,  gunpowder,  etc. 
The  Penguin  started  from  Zanzibar  on  the  19th  of 
March,  1866,  and  the  men  in  the  Doctor's  train  and 
the  beasts  were  taken  from  Zanzibar  in  a  large  dhow, 
which  was  towed  by  the  Penguin.  In  three  days 
the  Penguin  arrived  off  the  river  Rovuma,  but,  owing 
to  the  strong  current,  the  dhow  could  not  be  got  into 
the  mouth  of  the  stream.  The  expedition  then  made 
for  Mikindany  Bay,  about  thirty  miles  northward 
of  Cape  Delagoa,  where  Dr.  Livingstone  and  his  party 
were  successfully  landed  on  the  28th  of  March. 

"The  Johanna  men,  who  had  been  engaged  for  the 
Doctor's  service  by  Mr.  Sundley,  the  English  Consul 
at  Johanna,  were  considered  preferable  for  the  service 


DRAWING   THE    MAP   OF   AFRICA  223 

to  Zanzibar  men.  On  the  march  into  the  interior  the 
Sepoys  seem  to  have  suiFered  much,  and  Dr.  Living- 
stone thought  it  necessary  to  leave  them  on  the  route 
to  enable  them  to  return  to  Zanzibar.  In  returning 
they  had  but  little  to  eat,  and  ran  great  risk  of  starv- 
ing. One  by  one,  all  the  Sepoys  fell  ill,  and  the 
sickness  that  attacked  the  havildar  was  fatal,  as  he 
died  of  dysentery.  None  of  the  twelve  Sepoys  who 
started  with  the  Doctor  reached  Nyassa,  and  those 
who  survived  returned  to  Zanzibar  in  August  or 
September.  In  October  last  the  Johanna  men  made 
their  appearance  in  Zanzibar,  and  presented  them- 
selves before  Dr.  Seward,  the  British  Consul,  when 
for  the  first  time  the  inteUigence  was  received  of  the 
disaster  which  had  befallen  Dr.  Livingstone.  From 
the  accounts  of  these  Johanna  men  it  would  seem 
that  the  expedition  reached  Lake  Nyassa  in  safety 
and  crossed  the  lake.  They  pushed  on  westward, 
and  in  the  course  of  some  time  reached  Goomani,  a 
fishing  village  on  a  river.  This  would  appear  to  have 
been  in  the  second  or  third  week  of  August  last. 
The  people  of  Goomani  warned  Dr.  Livingstone  that 
the  Mafites,  a  wandering  predatory  tribe,  were  out 
on  a  plundering  expedition,  and  that  it  would  not  be 
safe  to  continue  the  journey.  But  the  dangers  thus 
presented  to  view  were  not  sufficient  to  deter  a  man 
who  had  braved  so  many  before;  and,  treating  the 
warnings  as  of  but  slight  moment,  he  crossed  the 
river  in  canoes  the  next  morning,  with  his  baggage 
and  train  of  followers,  in  safety.  Previously  to  this 
time,  the  whole  of  the  baggage  animals  had  perished 


224 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


on  the  journey  from  the  want  of  water;  and  on 
reaching  the  further  side  of  the  river  the  baggage  had 
to  be  carried  by  the  Doctor's  men.  Being  a  fast 
walker,  Dr.  Livingstone  kept  some  distance  in  ad- 
vance of  the  baggage-encumbered  men;  and  Musa 
only,  or  Musa  and  a  few  others  of  the  party,  kept 
up  with  him.  The  march  had  continued  some 
distance,  when  Dr.  Livingstone  saw  three  armed  men 
ahead,  and  thereupon  he  called  out  to  Musa,  "The 
Mafites  are  out  after  all,"  or  some  such  words  as 
those,  and  these  seem  to  have  been  the  last  he 
uttered.  The  three  Mafites  were  armed  with  bows 
and  arrows  and  other  weapons,  and  they  immediately 
commenced  hostilities.  Evidently  the  men  must 
have  closed  on  the  Doctor,  when,  finding  matters 
desperate,  he  drew  his  revolver  and  shot  two  of  his 
assailants;  but  while  thus  disposing  of  the  two  the 
third  managed  to  get  behind  Dr.  Livingstone,  and 
with  one  blow  from  an  ax,  clove  in  his  head.  The 
wound  was  mortal,  but  the  assassin  quickly  met  his 
own  doom,  for  a  bullet  from  Musa's  musket  passed 
through  his  body,  and  the  murderer  fell  dead  beside 
his  victim.  Musa  states  that  the  Doctor  died  in- 
stantly, and  that,  finding  the  Mafites  were  out,  he 
ran  back  to  the  luggage  party  and  told  them  that 
their  master  had  been  killed.  The  baggage  was 
hastily  abandoned,  and  the  Johanna  men,  Musa, 
and  the  rest  of  the  party  sought  safety  by  hasty 
flight,  which,  according  to  Musa's  story,  they  con- 
tinued until  sunset,  when  they  reached  a  secure 
hiding-place  in  the  jungle.    They  held  a  consultation, 


DRAWING   THE    MAP   OF   AFRICA  225 

and  it  was  alleged  that  Musa  prevailed  on  them  to  go 
back  to  look  after  the  body  of  their  late  master,  and 
that  on  regaining  the  place  where  the  murder  had 
been  perpetrated  they  found  Dr.  Livingstone's  body 
lying  there.  The  Doctor's  watch  had  been  carried 
away,  together  with  his  clothes,  the  only  article 
that  remained  on  the  body  being  the  trousers.  Musa 
and  the  men  who  had  accompanied  him  "scratched" 
a  hole  in  the  ground  just  deep  enough  to  bury  the 
body  in,  and  there  left,  in  a  far  remote  and  unknown 
spot,  the  remains  of  the  self-denying  and  noble  man 
who,  all  too  soon  for  his  country  and  for  the  cause 
of  civilization,  but  not  too  soon  for  him  to  have 
earned  an  enduring  fame,  found  his  end  at  the  hand 
of  an  ignoble  savage.  The  corpses  of  the  three 
Mafites  were  lying  on  the  spot  where  they  had  fallen; 
but  no  attention  was  paid  to  them  by  Musa,  who,  on 
searching,  could  find  no  memento  of  his  late  master 
to  bring  with  him  to  Zanzibar.  In  making  their  way 
to  the  coast,  great  hardships  were  experienced  by 
Musa  and  the  other  survivers  of  the  party,  who  were 
in  such  a  starving  condition  that  they  had  to  live 
upon  the  berries  they  could  gather  by  the  way,  until 
they  fell  in  with  an  Arab  caravan,  which  entertained 
them  kindly.  They  were  thus  enabled  to  reach 
Kilwa,  in  the  territory  of  the  Sultan  of  Zanzibar. 
They  were  here  provided  with  clothes  and  neces- 
saries and  sent  on  to  Zanzibar,  at  which  place  they 
reported  all  the  circumstances  to  Dr.  Seward,  by 
whom  they  were  closely  examined.  Dr.  Kirk,  of 
Zanzibar,  also  questioned  them  carefully,  and  found 


226 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


that  their  statement  of  the  country  through  which 
they  alleged  they  had  passed  correctly  answered  the 
leading  features  of  the  wilds  through  which  Dr. 
Livingstone  had  intended  to  track  his  way. 

"The  Johanna  men  were  taken  to  Johanna,  and 
carefully  interrogated  by  the  Sultan,  as  well  as  by 
Mr.  Sundley,  and  their  answers  tallied  with  Musa's 
narrative.  The  Johanna  men  asked  Mr.  Sundley 
to  pay  them  the  nine  months'  wages  due  them  for 
their  services  with  the  expedition,  and,  as  they  were 
entitled  to  what  they  demanded,  the  money  was  paid 
them.  Some  of  the  men  who  went  away  with  the 
expedition,  and  who  were  not  accounted  for  as  hav- 
ing died,  were  still  missing. 

"On  the  26th  of  December  Dr.  Seward  left  Zanzi- 
bar in  her  Majesty's  ship  Wasp,  and  proceeded  to 
Kilwa,  but  he  was  unable  to  obtain  any  fresh  infor- 
mation, or  to  gather  additional  details."* 

Livingstone  did  not  learn  of  the  Search  Expe- 
dition conducted  by  Mr.  Young,  until  February, 
1870.  In  the  meantime,  he  had  done  wonderful 
things  in  the  way  of  discovery  and  exploration.  He 
had  found  vast  inland  seas,  hundreds  of  rivers,  many 
mountains.  He  had  charted  what  he  found,  some- 
times without  instruments,  using  his  own  body  for 
a  measuring  pole,  his  own  stride  for  distances.  The 
map  of  unknown  Central  Africa  which  he  made  ex-  V 
tends  from  almost  15°  to  3°  south  latitude,  and  from 


*See  Appendix  for  Dr.  G.  E.  Seward's  communication  to  the  Foreign 
Office,  and  for  Mr.  Edward  Daniel  Young's  account  of  the  Search  Ex- 
pedition, 


DRAWING   THE    MAP   OF   AFRICA  227 

28°  to  40°  east  longitude,  with  a  wealth  of  detail 
shown  along  his  line  of  march.  When  I  say  "a 
wealth  of  detail,"  I  have  in  mind  such  minute  ex- 
planations and  instructions  as  would  be  priceless  for 
one  following  the  explorer.  For  instance,  we  find  it 
recorded  that  such  a  river  is  800  feet  above  sea  level, 
and  at  a  fording  place  100  yards  wide;  that  on  Lake 
Nyassa  there  is  a  native  crossing  place  which  canoes 
take  two  days  to  ferry  over;  that  a  mountain  seen 
from  a  given  spot  is  3,250  feet  above  sea-level;  that 
behind  such  a  hill  is  a  village;  and  much  more  of  the 
sort.  Then,  allowing  for  error,  he  warns  all  con- 
cerned that  "no  dependence  is  to  be  placed  on  the 
map  except  as  to  general  features  of  the  country 
and  rivers,  until  my  observations  are  recalculated." 
In  April,  1867,  he  proved  that  what  was  talked  of  as 
Lake  Liemba  was  the  southern  extremity  of  the  great 
inland  sea,  Lake  Tanganyika,  a  body  of  water  400 
miles  long  and  30  miles  wide,  the  northern  part  of 
which  Seen  found  by  Burton  and  Speke  in  1858. 
On  November  8,  1867,  he  first  saw  Lake  Moero,  a 
body  of  water  between  latitude  8°  30'  and  10°  south, 
with  an  area  of  more  than  2,020  square  miles,  a  length 
of  70  miles  and  a  width  of  24  miles.  On  July  18, 
1868,  there  is  this  modest  announcement  in  the 
Journal:  "I  walked  a  httle  way  out,  and  saw  the 
shores  of  the  Lake  [Bangweolo]  for  the  first  time, 
thankful  that  I  had  come  hither  safely."  Thus,  al- 
most casually,  he  records  the  discovery  of  a  great 
Central  African  lake  of  which  there  had  been  un- 
confirmed rumors,  a  body  of  water  150  miles  in 


228 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


length  and  75  miles  in  width.  Into  it  the  Chambeze 
ran,  as  he  noted,  and  out  of  it  the  Luapula,  or  source 
stream  of  the  Congo.  "Thanks  to  that  all-embrac- 
ing Providence  which  has  watched  over  and  enabled 
me  to  discover  what  I  have  done.  There  is  still 
much  to  do,  and,  if  health  and  protection  be  granted, 
I  shall  make  a  complete  thing  of  it."  That  "com- 
plete thing"  was  to  follow  the  river  Lualaba,  to 
decide  whether  it  was  the  western  main  tributary  of 
the  Nile  or  the  eastern  head  water  of  the  Congo;  also 
"to  certify  that  no  other  sources  of  the  Nile  can 
come  from  the  south  without  being  seen  by  me.  No 
one  will  cut  me  out  after  this  exploration  is  accom- 
plished, and  may  the  good  Lord  of  all  help  me  to  show 
myself  one  of  His  stout-hearted  servants,  an  honor  to 
my  children,  and  perhaps  to  my  country  and  race." 
And  in  another  place  he  wrote,  referring  to  his  plans, 
"I  have  endeavored  to  follow  with  unswerving 
fidelity  the  Hne  of  duty.  My  course  has  been  an 
even  one,  swerving  neither  to  the  rigl  fcD"  left, 
though  my  route  has  been  tortuous  enough.  All 
the  hardship,  hunger,  and  toil  were  met  with  the  full 
conviction  that  I  was  right  in  persevering  to  make 
a  complete  work  of  the  exploration  of  the  sources  of 
the  Nile.  I  had  a  strong  presentiment  during  the 
first  three  years  that  I  should  not  live  through  the 
enterprise;  but  it  weakened  as  I  came  near  to  the 
end  of  the  journey,  and  an  eager  desire  to  discover 
any  evidence  of  the  great  Moses  having  visited  these 
parts  bound  me — spellbound  me,  I  may  say.  I 
have  to  go  down  the  Central  Lualaba.,  or  Webb's 


DRAWING   THE    MAP    OF   AFRICA  229 

Lake  River,  then  up  the  Western  or  Young's  Lake 
River  to  Katanga  headwaters,  and  then  retire — 
I  pray  that  it  may  be  to  my  native  home." 
/  There,  in  as  Httle  compass  as  possible,  we  have  the 
\gist  of  his  discoveries  on  his  third  journey,  though 
the  full  tale  of  them  and  his  wanderings  takes  almost 
a  quarter  of  a  million  words.  From  time  to  time,  out 
of  the  jungle  silence  went  an  occasional  letter  that 
reached  Zanzibar  and  was  forwarded  to  England, 
though  many,  very  many  of  his  letters  referred  to  in 
the  Journals  are  unaccounted  for.  In  one  case,  forty 
letters  vanished;  but  of  those  that  went  through 
there  was  a  letter  to  Lord  Clarendon,  dated  from 
Casembe,  December  10,  1867,  which  gave  an  epitome 
of  his  travels  between  lakes  Nyassa  and  Moero. 
There  was  another  dated  July  7th,  which  Clarendon 
read  to  the  Royal  Geographical  Society,  giving  the 
salient  facts  of  his  doings.  Again,  in  December, 
1869,  a  letter  written  by  him  was  published  in  all  the 
important  English  papers,  dated  May  30,  1869. 
But  so  rare  were  the  tidings  that  those  interested  in 
his  welfare  suffered  keen  anxiety,  the  more  because 
there  were  occasional  rumors  of  his  death  by  murder. 

I  have  spoken  of  that  third  and  last  Journal  with 
some  hope  that  this  book  may  lead  to  an  interest  in 
it.  For  it  would  be  hard  to  read  that  record  with- 
out being  impressed  by  the  man's  rigid  adherence 
to  truth  and  to  moderation  of  statement.  The  style 
is  Hke  John  Bunyan's  in  its  sober  simpHcity.  The 
explorer's  genial,  sunny  disposition  shines  through 
his  writing  even  when  he  is  torn  with  the  racking 


230 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


pains  of  rheumatic  fever.  If  he  describes  a  bird,  or  a 
flower,  or  a  fish,  it  is  with  most  admirable  clarity. 
Writing  of  quaint  things  seen,  he  reveals  a  subtly 
persuasive  humor  as  when  he  tells  of  listening  to  a 
fire-eating  chief  who  made  a  "long  and  fierce  oration" 
telling  the  explorer  that  he  would  be  killed  and  eaten 
as  "the  people  wanted  a  white  one  to  eat."  Living- 
stone heard  the  "noisy  demagogue"  patiently,  and, 
at  the  end  of  the  tirade,  "thanked  him  for  his 
warnings."  Then  he  is  full  of  divine  anger  at  the 
sight  of  cruelty.  "I  am  heartsore  and  sick  of 
human  blood  shedding,"  he  writes  again  and 
again — but  he  is  never  vengeful.  Indeed,  such  is 
the  man's  sincerity,  such  is  his  power  of  observation, 
such  are  his  delicate  taste  and  earnestness  and  un- 
compromising truthfulness,  that  it  seems  to  me 
more  than  probable  that,  had  he  chosen  literature 
for  his  profession,  he  would  have  ranked  with  the 
greatest  writers  of  his  day. 

And  before  leaving  the  subject  of  his  Journal 
entries,  a  word  is  necessary  about  the  difficulties 
under  which  he  labored.  His  notebooks  were  utilized 
to  the  last  fraction  of  an  inch  of  space,  and  when 
blank  paper  failed  him,  he  wrote  on  old  newspapers, 
using  an  ink  he  learned  to  manufacture  from  berries. 
Pressed  between  pages  were  botanical  specimens,  two 
or  three  tsetse  flies,  leaves,  and  grasses.  Nor,  ex- 
cept when  in  the  most  extreme  suffering,  did  he 
neglect  to  make  properly  dated  entries. 

As  for  the  man's  piety,  much  is  to  be  said.  His  f 
religion  was  very  real,  very  positive.    His  God  was 


DRAWING   THE    MAP   OF   AFRICA     23 1 

all  about  him  and  encompassing  him,  and  never 
closer  than  when  he  staggered  from  sheer  weariness 
and  physical  weakness.  Indeed,  a  sort  of  disquie- 
tude comes  upon  one  when  considering  the  realness 
of  the  faith  of  the  man,  a  faith  of  priceless  value  to 
him.  There  are  entries  and  entries  in  the  Journals 
which  show  his  unshaken  behef  in  a  divine  will,  both 
in  times  perilous  and  in  times  when  all  was  smooth 
going;  and  with  him  prayer  was  a  suppHcation  for  his 
self-submission  to  that  will,  or  else  an  expression  of 
thankfulness  for  power  given  him.  But  prayer  was 
never  a  petition  for  selfish  ends  or  for  special  patron- 
age. 

Let  me  illustrate :  There  was  a  time  at  the  close  of 
the  year  1866  when  food  was  hard  and  scanty  and 
the  man  was  always  hungry;  when  he  was  without 
sugar  or  salt  and  glad  to  get  anything  in  the  shape 
of  meat,  even  "a  rat-looking  animal"  which  he 
bought.  At  that  time  there  were  continuous  rains, 
the  ground  was  boggy,  and  none  of  the  party  knew 
what  it  was  to  be  dry  at  night.  In  the  midst  of  these 
unfavorable  conditions  he  pens  what  is  really  an 
informal  but  heartfelt  prayer,  or  rather  two  prayers, 
one  closing  the  year  and  the  other  opening  it;  and 
both  are  prayers  of  supplication,  entirely  void  of  what 
might  be  called  materialism. 

December  jist:  .  .  We  now  end  1866.  It 
has  not  been  so  fruitful  or  useful  as  I  intended.  Will 
try  to  do  better  in  1867,  and  be  better — more  gentle 
and  loving;  and  may  the  Almighty,  to  whom  I  com- 
mit my  way,  bring  my  desires  to  pass,  and  prosper  me. 


232 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


Let  all  the  sins  of  '66  be  blotted  out,  for  Jesus' 
sake!" 

January  i,  1867:  "May  He  who  was  full  of  grace 
and  truth,  impress  His  character  on  mine.  Grace — 
eagerness  to  show  favor;  truth — truthfulness,  sin- 
cerity, honor — for  His  mercy's  sake." 

I  have  spoken  before  of  his  subhme  detachment 
from  his  own  suffering,  but  let  me  show  you  another 
example,  from  the  Journal  of  1869,  when  he  was 
fifty-six  years  of  age;  it  is  a  passage  that  shows  also 
to  what  a  pass  things  had  come  by  that  time. 

.  .  Pneumonia  of  right  lung,  and  I  cough  all 
day  and  night.  .  .  .  Mohamed  Bogarib  offered 
to  carry  me.  I  am  so  weak  I  can  scarcely  speak. 
We  are  in  Marunge  proper  now — a  pretty  but  steeply 
undulating  country.  This  is  the  first  time  in  my 
life  I  have  been  carried  in  illness,  but  I  cannot  raise 
myself  to  the  sitting  position."  And  yet,  in  that 
state  of  physical  wretchedness,  he  brings  himself, 
as  you  see,  to  break  the  tale  of  his  own  sufferings  to 
write  of  the  beauty  of  the  surroundings.  A  little 
later  he  has  something  to  say  of  the  flora  and  the 
fauna  of  the  country,  has  something  else  to  say  of 
Bogarib's  kindness,  is  full  of  sympathy  for  the 
natives  because  of  the  small  and  sharp  thorns  which 
wound  their  legs  and  feet.  Then,  presently,  in  quite 
matter-of-fact  way  he  writes,  "Feb.  14th,  1869, 
arrived  at  Tanganyika."  Sick,  frail,  and  worn  in 
body,  yet  Tanganyika  is  no  more  than  a  place  for  a 
brief  rest.  And  while  resting  he  finds  things  to 
see,  to  learn,  to  record,  to  wonder  at.    There  is  no 


DRAWING   THE    MAP   OF   AFRICA  233 

mention  of  convalescence,  but  instead  details  are  set 
down,  about  the  country,  about  longitude  and  lati- 
tude. There  are  hints  that  he  is  studying  a  new 
dialect.  There  is  information  that  rests  on  real 
research  and  patient  labor.  Then,  being  strong 
again,  he  is  on  the  road  once  more,  as  set  to  his  duty 
as  was  Carlyle's  stout-hearted  Abbot  Samson. 


CHAPTER  XI 


LIVINGSTONE  AND  STANLEY 

IN  THE  middle  of  October,  1869,  when  Living- 
Stone  was  preparing  to  explore  the  Lualaba,  and 
when  uncredited  reports  as  to  his  murder  were  in  the 
air,  two  men  in  Paris  spun  a  thread  that  was  finally 
woven  into  the  pattern  of  the  explorer's  Hfe. 

One  of  those  men  was  Henry  Morton  Stanley, 
originally  John  Rowlands,  a  Welsh  boy,  born  in 
1 841,  who  had  sailed  to  New  Orleans  as  cabin  boy 
and  there  had  been  adopted  by  the  merchant  whose 
name  he  took.  He  had  fought  in  the  Confederate 
army,  had  been  taken  prisoner,  had  enlisted  in  the 
United  States  Navy  and  became  acting  ensign  on 
board  the  Ticonderoga.  He  had  been  in  Asia  Minor, 
and  had  acted  as  special  correspondent  for  the 
New  York  Herald,  winning  a  name  by  sending  to  his 
paper  an  account  of  Lord  Napier's  victory  in  advance 
of  the  official  report,  and  during  the  Carlist  war  he 
had  reported  events  for  the  same  newspaper. 

The  other  man  was  James  Gorden  Bennett,  a 
New  Yorker,  born  in  the  same  year  as  Stanley,  who 
became  managing  editor  of  the  New  York  Herald  in 
1866,  and  the  proprietor  of  the  newspaper  on  the 
death  of  his  father.  Bennett  was  a  journalist,  and 
something  more.    He  was  a  man   of  individual 

234 


LIVINGSTONE    AND    STANLEY  235 

initiative  and  individual  impress.  There  was  a  sort 
of  pugnacity  in  him.  His  father  had  carried  journal- 
ism to  high  efficiency,  and  the  son  followed  the 
father  and  built  well  on  the  foundations  laid.  Under 
the  father,  the  New  York  Herald  had  achieved  a  kind 
of  revolution  in  journalism  by  publishing  stock- 
market  reports  and  financial  articles  daily.  The 
son  organized  a  system  of  weather  reports  valuable  to 
those  in  the  shipping  industry.  He  fitted  out  the 
Jeannette  Polar  Expedition  in  1879  under  command 
of  Lieut.  De  Long,  U.  S.  N.  In  company  with  John 
W.  Mackay,  he  organized  the  Commercial  Cable 
Company.  The  New  York  Evening  Telegram  was 
established  by  him,  as  also  daily  editions  of  the  New 
York  Herald  in  Paris  and  London.  Those  activities 
were  subsequent  to  the  interest  taken  in  Livingstone, 
but  illustrate  well  the  character  and  enterprise  of  the 
man.  Before  the  meeting  with  Stanley  in  Paris,  he 
had  done  startling  things,  as,  for  instance,  taking 
part  in  a  transatlantic  yacht  race  in  1866,  when  his 
schooner,  the  Henrietta,  made  the  trip  from  Sandy 
Hook  to  the  Needles  in  13  days,  21  hours,  and  55 
minutes,  winning  against  two  opposing  yachts. 
There  were  other  interesting  things  done  by  him,  but 
enough  has  been  listed  to  get  an  idea  of  the  man. 
He  was  dynamic  and  propulsive.  He  was  an  execu- 
tive. He  was  an  expert  in  securing  attention.  He 
was  a  deft  manipulator  of  audiences.  He  was  as 
effective  in  keeping  up  a  state  of  enthusiastic  ex- 
pectation as  Barnum,  or  Napoleon,  or  Henry  of 
Navarre. 


236 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


It  is  important  to  understand  the  manner  of  man 
he  was,  otherwise  it  would  be  difficult  to  understand 
why,  after  he  and  Stanley  met  in  October,  1869,  when 
Bennett  had  his  machinery  at  a  point  of  the  utmost 
efficiency,  with  money  in  plenty  at  his  command,  and 
when  Stanley  was  zealous  and  active,  Stanley  did 
not  arrive  at  Zanzibar  until  January  6,  1871,  or  meet 
Livingstone  until  November  10,  of  that  year.  And 
in  that  space  of  time,  between  October,  1869,  and 
November,  1871,  the  explorer  was  doing  tremendous 
things,  often  with  only  five  men  and  in  helpless  agony. 
There  was  a  time  when  his  attendants  were  only  three, 
for  two  were  guilty  of  being  absent  without  leave. 
He  walked  thousands  of  miles,  often  on  the  verge  of 
starvation,  often  fever-racked,  his  feet  ulcerated, 
marching  with  slave  trains  sometimes,  the  witness 
of  slaughter  and  of  cruelty,  unable  to  communicate 
with  those  of  his  own  race.  The  explanation  of  what 
seems  a  most  unwarrantable  delay  Hes  in  this.  With 
James  Gordon  Bennett,  business  was  business,  and 
what  altruism  there  was  was  incidental.  The  ex- 
pedition to  find  Livingstone  was  primarily  a  business 
venture,  not  primarily  a  philanthropic  or  a  charitable 
cause.  There  was  cold  calculation  in  it,  just  as  there 
was  cold  calculation  on  the  part  of  Christopher  De 
Haro  when  he  undertook  the  financing  of  Magellan's 
expedition;  or  as  there  was  with  Conrad  Roth  in 
1579,  when  incidental  things  inured  to  the  public 
good  because  he  tried  to  monopolize  the  pepper  trade; 
or  when  Boulton  managed  James  Watt  and  thus 
perfected  the  steam  engine. 


LIVINGSTONE    AND    STANLEY  237 

Doubtless,  when  James  Gordon  Bennett  had  the 
idea  of  sending  an  expedition  to  Livingstone,  there 
was  nothing  more  than  that  in  his  mind.  There  is 
every  evidence  of  single-mindedness  in  the  conver- 
sation as  reported  by  Stanley,  in  his  book  How  I 
Found  Livingstone: 

"Bennett.    Where  do  you  think  Livingstone  is? 

"Stanley.    I  really  do  not  know,  sir. 

"Bennett.    Do  you  think  he  is  alive? 

"Stanley.    He  may  be  and  he  may  not  be. 

"Bennett.  Well,  I  think  he  is  alive,  and  that  he  can 
be  found,  and  I  am  going  to  send  you  to  find  him. 

"Stanley.  What!  Do  you  really  think  I  can  find 
Dr.  Livingstone?  Do  you  mean  me  to  go  to  Central 
Africa? 

"Bennett.  Yes;  I  mean  that  you  shall  go,  and 
find  him  wherever  you  may  hear  that  he  is,  and  to  get 
what  news  you  can  of  him,  and  perhaps  the  old  man 
may  be  in  want; — take  enough  with  you  to  help 
him  should  he  require  it.  Of  course,  you  will  act 
according  to  your  own  plans,  and  do  what  you  think 
best — but  find  Livingstone!" 

A  Httle  later,  when  the  question  of  financing  the 
expedition  was  touched  upon,  Bennett  was  the  cold, 
impassive  man  of  affairs,  conducting  things  on 
strictest  business  principles,  directly  and  rapidly. 
He  said:  "Draw  a  thousand  pounds  now;  and  when 
you  have  gone  through  that,  draw  another  thousand, 
and  when  that  is  spent  draw  another  thousand,  and 
when  you  have  finished  that  draw  another  thousand, 
and  so  on;  but  find  Livingstone." 


238 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


So  far  so  good.  It  was  good  business  for  the  New 
York  Herald,  but  business  turned  into  channels  of 
general  service.  But  there  was  the  active  brain 
bubbhng  with  ideas.  There  was  pubHc  spirit,  but  a 
spirit  soon  to  be  blended  with  something  else.  There 
was  the  irresistible  tendency  to  kill  not  only  two 
birds,  but  a  covey  of  them,  with  one  stone.  Nor 
must  that  aspect  of  things  be  neglected,  especially  as 
Stanley  has  been  criticized  for  failing  to  get  to  Living- 
stone earlier  than  he  did.  The  truth  is  that  Stanley, 
had  he  had  free  rein,  would  have  relieved  the  tor- 
tured explorer  in  all  probability  within  six  months 
from  the  date  on  which  he  received  his  commission. 
"Do  you  mean  me  to  go  straight  on  to  Africa  to 
search  for  Dr.  Livingstone  .f"'  he  asked. 

But  by  that  time  the  man  of  enterprise  had  seen 
visions.  A  vast  scale  of  operations  lay  spread  out 
in  his  mind.  He  was  the  man  of  affairs  stirred  by 
opportunity,  so  he  began  to  enumerate.  Stanley  was 
to  find  Livingstone,  but  there  were  other  things  for 
him  to  do  first.  He  was  to  attend  the  inauguration 
of  the  Suez  Canal;  to  go  up  the  Nile;  to  find  out  the 
facts  about  Sir  Samuel  Baker's  mihtary  expedition 
to  suppress  the  slave  trade  on  the  Nile.  He  was  to 
look  around  Lower  Egypt  and  write  a  guide  book 
for  tourists.  Then  there  was  Jerusalem,  with  cer- 
tain discoveries  reported  as  having  been  made  by 
Captain  Warren;  he  was  to  look  into  that.  Also 
Constantinople  and  the  pohtical  friction  between  the 
Khedive  and  the  Sultan;  that  was  to  be  seen  and 
written  about.    And  the  Crimean  battlefields,  and 


LIVINGSTONE    AND  STANLEY 


the  Caspian  Sea.  Then  Persia  and  India,  taking 
Bagdad  en  route,  with  something  of  interest  written 
on  the  subject  of  the  Euphrates  Valley  Railway.  All 
of  which  being  done  and  written  about,  it  would  be 
time  to  attend  to  Livingstone. 

Amazing  as  it  may  seem,  that  was  the  schedule 
made  out  by  James  Gordon  Bennett,  and  from  that 
itinerary  he  did  not  move.  It  was  an  excellent  piece 
of  pubhcity,  but  a  mixture  of  motives  was  behind 
his  plan.  Whatever  of  anxiety  for  Livingstone's 
safety,  whatever  loyalty  or  devotion  to  Livingstone's 
cause  was  in  the  man's  mind,  was  thickly  overlaid 
by  business  considerations.  The  chivalrous  aspect 
of  the  cause  was  one  thing,  the  strictly  economic 
feature  another.  What  Bennett  did  was  the  out- 
growth of  an  irresistible  tendency,  just  as  what 
Livingstone  did  was  the  result  of  an  irresistible 
tendency,  and  if  there  is  a  problem  in  the  Bennett 
case,  it  is  one  for  psychologists. 

But  still  there  is  sympathy,  a  very  real  thing. 

So  Stanley  did  as  he  was  told,  and  a  month  after 
the  talk  with  Mr.  Bennett  was  at  Port  Said,  attend- 
ing the  opening  ceremonies  of  the  Suez  Canal.  When 
Stanley,  still  obeying  orders,  was  in  Egypt  on 
December  16,  1869,  Livingstone  was  in  sore  straits 
while  trying  to  cross  the  river  Luamo,  where  he  was 
opposed  by  obstinate  natives  who  threatened  his 
life.  At  the  time  Stanley  was  in  Jerusalem,  at  the 
beginning  of  1870,  out  in  Africa  there  was  the  ex- 
plorer with  heart  of  flame,  forever  on  his  quest,  but 
too  weak  and  sick  with  choleraic  purgings  to  move. 


240 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


And  on  February  2,  1870,  all  England  was  startled 
when  it  opened  its  morning  Times  and  read  this: 

Sir: 

The  enclosed  letter  from  my  son-in-law,  Captain 
the  Hon.  Ernest  Cochrane,  commanding  H.  M.  S. 
Petrel  on  the  west  coast  of  Africa,  is  at  your  service. 
It  gives  an  account  of  the  awful  death  which  has 
terminated  Livingstone's  career. 

Your  obedient  servant, 
Richard  Doherty. 
Red  Castle,  County  of  Donegal,  Jan.  31st. 

My  dear  Sir: 

A  few  lines  to  tell  you  Dr.  Livingstone  has  been 
killed  and  burnt  by  the  natives  ninety  days'  journey 
from  the  Congo.  He  passed  through  a  native  town 
and  was  three  days  on  his  journey  when  the  king  of 
the  town  died.  The  natives  declared  Livingstone 
had  bewitched  him,  sent  after  him  and  told  him  he 
had  witched  their  king  and  he  must  die.  They  then 
killed  him  and  burnt  him.  This  news  comes  by  a 
Portuguese  trader  traveling  that  way.  Livingstone 
was  on  the  lakes  at  the  head  of  the  Congo,  making 
his  way  to  the  Congo,  where  he  was  going  to  come 
out.    I  believe  this  news  to  be  true. 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Bennett's  man  was  on  his  way  to 
Constantinople,  and  while  he  was  in  that  city  re- 
porting the  frictions  of  Sultan  and  Khedive,  Living- 
stone's daily  fare  was  mainly  maize  flour,  a  digestion- 


LIVINGSTONE    AND   STANLEY  24I 

destroying,  energy-killing  diet,  and  he  wrote  this  in 
his  Journal:  "I  was  too  ill  to  go  through  mud  waist 
deep."  He  had  trouble  among  his  followers,  too,  and 
at  the  time  Stanley  was  in  Persia,  news  hunting,  the 
explorer  who  had  been  so  often  tried  and  never  found 
wanting  set  this  down  in  his  agony  when  Amoda 
and  his  wife  Halima  deserted: 

"June  26th,  1870.  Now  my  people  failed  me; 
so,  with  only  three  attendants,  Susi,  Chuma,  and 
Gardner,  I  started  off  to  the  north-west  for  the 
Lualaba." 

Had  it  not  been  for  those  business  considerations 
which  delayed  the  taking  of  necessities  to  Living- 
stone  But  it  is  idle  to  speculate  upon  what 

might  have  happened  if  something  that  did  not  hap- 
pen had  taken  place.  The  hard  facts  are  that  the 
never-shirking  man,  the  man  of  invulnerable  spirit 
did  suffer,  and  suffer  grievously.  For  while  Stanley, 
bent  on  his  given  duty,  was  in  India,  David  Living- 
stone wrote  this  in  his  Journal:  "For  the  first  time 
in  my  life  my  feet  failed  me;  and  now,  having  but 
three  attendants,  it  would  have  been  unwise  to 
go  farther  in  that  direction.  Instead  of  healing 
quietly  as  heretofore,  when  torn  by  hard  travel, 
irritable-eating  ulcers  fastened  on  both  feet,  and  I 
limped  back  to  Bambarre,  on  the  22d.  .  . 
And  again,  under  date  of  July  23,  1870,  there  is 
this:  "The  sores  on  my  feet  now  laid  me  up  as 
irritable-eating  ulcers.  If  the  foot  were  put  to  the 
ground,  a  discharge  of  bloody  ichor  flowed,  and  the 
same  discharge  happened  every  night  with  consider- 


242 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


able  pain,  that  prevented  sleep.  The  wailing  of  the 
slaves  tortured  with  these  sores  is  one  of  the  night 
sounds  of  a  slave  camp;  they  eat  through  ever^'thing 
— muscle,  tendon,  and  bone,  and  often  lame  perma- 
nently, if  they  do  not  kill.  ...  I  have  three 
ulcers,  and  no  medicine.    .    .  Also  this: 

"Patience  is  all  I  can  exercise;  these  irritable  ulcers 
hedge  me  in  now,  as  did  my  attendant  in  June;  but 
all  will  be  for  the  best,  for  it  is  in  Providence,  and  not 
in  me." 

Admitting  the  right  of  the  man  of  business  to  do  as 
he  pleased  in  putting  Livingstone's  relief  at  the  tail 
end  of  so  much  that  was  to  be  seen  and  written  about 
by  his  agent  for  the  benefit  of  those  agog  for  a  new 
sensation,  yet  any  reader  of  the  Livingstone  Journals 
must  find  himself  taking  a  less  materialistic  view  of 
things  when  reading  this  passage,  dated  November  9, 
1870,  at  a  time  when  Stanley  was  saiUng  between 
Bombay  and  the  Mauritius:  "I  long  excessively  to  be 
away  and  finish  my  work  by  the  two  lacustrine 
rivers,  Lualaba  or  Webb  and  Young,  but  wait  only 
for  Syde  and  Dugumbe,  who  may  have  letters. 
.  .  .  I  groan,  and  am  in  bitterness  at  the  delay, 
but  thus  it  is;  I  pray  for  help  to  do  what  is  right,  but 
surely  I  am  perplexed,  and  grieve  and  mourn;  I 
cannot  give  up  making  a  complete  work  of  the 
exploration."  And  again,  we  find  this  pleading  cry 
from  the  heart  of  the  man,  on  the  first  day  of  the 
year,  1871,  five  days  before  Stanley  reached  Zanzi- 
bar: "O  Father!  help  me  to  finish  this  work  to  Thy 
honor!" 


LIVINGSTONE    AND    STANLEY  243 

Stanley,  once  in  Africa  and  on  the  quest,  lost  no 
time,  either  in  preparing  his  outfit  or  in  acquainting 
himself  with  the  country.  His  outfit  consisted  of 
five  caravans,  one  hundred  and  ninety-two  people, 
twenty-seven  asses,  a  cook,  a  tailor,  boats,  two 
horses,  and  all  kinds  of  necessities  and  luxuries.  The 
whole  was  underway  by  March  21,  1871,  in  five  sepa- 
rate bodies,  the  first  of  which  started  on  February 
6th. 

Almost  at  the  same  time,  Livingstone  was  in  tree- 
covered  hills,  at  a  village  called  Mobasilange.  It 
was  an  oasis  in  a  desert  of  cruelty  and  suffering,  in- 
habited by  children  of  nature  with  a  certain  poise 
and  dignity.  The  explorer's  description  is  good  to 
read,  the  more  because  of  a  sense  of  comparative 
comfort  in  the  man  after  all  that  pain  and  turmoil: 
"The  main  street  lies  generally  east  and  west,  to 
allow  the  bright  sun  to  stream  his  hot  clear  ray  from 
one  end  to  the  other,  and  lick  up  quickly  the  moisture 
from  the  frequent  showers  which  is  not  drawn  off  by 
the  slopes.  A  little  verandah  is  often  made  in  front 
of  the  doors  where  the  family  gathers  round  a  fire, 
and  while  enjoying  the  heat  needed  in  the  cold  which 
always  accompanies  the  first  darting  of  the  sun's  rays 
across  the  atmosphere,  inhale  the  delicious  air  and 
talk  over  their  little  domestic  affairs.  The  various 
shaped  leaves  of  the  forest  all  round  the  village  are 
spangled  with  myriads  of  dewdrops.  The  cocks 
crow  vigorously,  and  strut  and  ogle;  the  kids  gambol 
and  leap  on  their  dams  quietly  chewing  their  cud. 
Other  goats  make  believe  fighting.    Thrifty  wives 


244 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


often  bake  their  new  clay  pots  in  a  fire  made  by 
lighting  a  heap  of  grass  roots;  they  extract  salt  from 
the  ashes,  and  so  two  birds  are  killed  with  one  stone. 
The  beauty  of  this  peaceful  morning  scene  is  in- 
describable. Infancy  gilds  the  fairy  picture  with  its 
own  lines,  and  it  is  probably  never  forgotten,  for  the 
young,  taken  up  from  slavers  and  treated  with  all 
philanthropic  missionary  care  and  kindness,  still 
revert  to  the  period  of  infancy  as  the  fairest  and 
finest  they  have  known.  They  would  go  back  to 
freedom  and  enjoyment  as  fast  as  would  our  own 
sons  of  the  soil,  and  be  heedless  of  the  charms  of 
hard  work  and  no  play,  which  we  think  so  much 
better  for  them  if  not  for  us." 

And  Livingstone,  a  month  before,  had  received 
something  of  the  help  and  aid  that  he  had  asked 
Dr.  Kirk  at  Zanzibar  to  send  him  and  that  seemed 
to  have  been  so  delayed.  Though,  to  be  sure,  when 
his  help  had  arrived,  he  was  disappointed  to  find  that 
the  men  were  Banians,  and  full  of  that  slavish  spirit 
to  which  he  so  strongly  objected.  To  add  to  his 
disappointment,  they  brought  only  one  letter  and 
had  lost  forty.  "The  ten  men  are  all  slaves  of  the 
Banians,  who  are  British  subjects,  and  they  come 
with  a  He  in  their  mouth.  They  will  not  help  me,  and 
swear  the  Consul  told  them  not  to  go  forward,  but  to 
force  me  back.  They  swore  so  positively  that  I 
actually  looked  again  at  Dr.  Kirk's  letter  to  see  if  his 
orders  had  been  rightly  understood  by  me.  But  for 
fear  of  pistol  shot  they  would  gain  their  own  and 
their  Banian  master's  end — to  baffle  me  completely. 


LIVINGSTONE    AND    STANLEY  245 

They  demand  an  advance  of  $i  or  ^6  a  month,  and 
this  is  double  freeman's  pay  at  Zanzibar."  Hov7- 
ever,  the  pathfinder  had  something:  his  health  w^as 
better  in  the  higher  altitude  and  with  good  food;  and 
he  was  on  his  way  again  into  the  unexplored. 

Into  the  country  of  the  Manyuema  he  went,  try- 
ing to  make  friends  with  them  to  the  end  that  he 
might  secure  a  canoe  fleet  and  so  find  what  there  was 
to  find  about  the  river  Lualaba,  and  be  enabled  to 
chart  it  on  the  map.  But  the  natives  feared  him. 
Alone  and  unarmed  he  went  to  a  native  market  where 
"there  were  over  i,ooo  people,  carrying  pots  and 
cassava  grass  cloth,  fishes  and  fowls;  they  were 
alarmed  at  my  coming  among  them  and  were  ready 
to  fly;  many  stood  oflF  in  suspicion."  And  with  that 
suspicion  there  was  another  suspicion  in  his  own  camp. 
For  the  slaves  sent  from  Zanzibar  refused  to  go  on. 
"I  see  no  hope  of  getting  on  with  them.  Abed,  heard 
them  plotting  my  destruction.  If  forced  to  go  on 
they  would  watch  till  the  first  difficulty  arose  with 
the  Manyuema,  then  fire  off  their  guns,  run  away, 
and  as  I  could  not  run  as  fast  as  they,  leave  me  to 
perish.  ...  I  cannot  state  how  much  I  was 
worried  by  those  wretched  slaves,  who  did  much  to 
annoy  me.  .  .  .  Hassani  [a  slave-trader]  got 
nine  canoes  and  put  sixty-five  persons  in  these.  I 
cannot  get  one."  So  runs  the  Journal  in  May,  and 
things  seem  at  a  deadlock.  "I  fear  I  must  march 
on  foot,"  he  concludes. 

Then  there  came  blood-shedding.  It  was  at  the 
village  by  the  river  he  could  not  cross  and  could  not 


246 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


travel  along  because  of  physical  weakness  and  the 
inimical  attitude  of  natives,  as  well  as  because  of  the 
opposition  of  his  own  men  excepting  the  faithful  five. 
Amoda  and  Halima,  it  should  be  said,  returned  and 
took  up  their  duties.  There  were  opposing  slave- 
traders,  and  there  were  jealousies  and  rivalries,  with 
the  natives  torn  into  conflicting  parties.  We  have 
a  vision  of  Arabs  firing  on  unarmed  men  and  women, 
shooting  them  as  they  tried  to  swim,  burning  villages 
far  and  wide.  There  were  men  tiger-fierce,  and  there 
were  natives  in  terrified  flight.  And  "the  wish  to 
make  an  impression  in  the  country  as  to  the  import- 
ance and  greatness  of  the  newcomers  was  the  most 
potent  motive."    Only  that  and  nothing  more. 

So  Livingstone's  hope  of  getting  canoes  vanished. 
His  Banian  slaves,  always  hopeless,  were  impossible 
after  witnessing  all  that  blood-letting,  if  indeed  they 
themselves  were  not  by  the  sight  of  it  made  eager 
for  rapine.  "I  see  nothing  for  it  but  to  go  back  to 
Ujiji  [on  Lake  Tanganyika]  for  other  men,  though  it 
will  throw  me  out  of  the  chance  of  discovering  the 
fourth  great  lake  in  the  Lualaba  line  of  drainage,  and 
other  things  of  great  value.  .  .  .  It  is  a  sore 
aflSiction,  at  least  forty-five  miles  in  a  straight  line — 
equal  to  three  hundred  miles,  or,  by  the  turnings  and 
windings,  six  hundred  English  miles,  and  all  after 
feeding  and  clothing  the  Banian  slaves  for  twenty-one 
months.  But  .  .  .  with  help  from  above,  I 
shall  yet  go  through  Rua,  see  the  underground  ex- 
cavations first,  then  on  to  Katanga,  and  the  four 
ancient  fountains  eight  days  beyond,  and  after  that 


LIVINGSTONE    AND    STANLEY  247 

Lake  Lincoln.  .  .  .  The  terrible  scenes  of  man's 
inhumanity  to  man  brought  on  severe  headache, 
which  might  have  been  serious  had  it  not  been  re- 
lieved by  a  copious  discharge  of  blood.  I  was  laid  up 
all  yesterday  afternoon  with  the  depression  the  blood- 
shed made — it  filled  me  with  unspeakable  horror." 

So  on  July  20,  1871,  he  started  eastward  to  Ujiji, 
the  great  slave-trade  market,  where  he  hoped  to  find 
food  and  necessities  as  sent  from  Zanzibar,  and  with 
them  be  enabled  to  move  on.  But  the  way  was 
dangerous  because  of  the  fear  in  the  natives'  hearts. 
White  men  had  brought  death  to  them  and  their 
fellows,  and  one  white  man  looked  very  much  like 
another.  In  some  places  there  was  stone-throwing. 
In  thick  jungle  all  day,  there  was  that  traveling  of 
the  unseen  enemy  in  a  parallel  course,  and  the  ever- 
present  sense  of  danger.  "A  slight  rustle  in  the 
dense  vegetation  meant  a  spear,"  writes  Livingstone. 
Once,  "a  large  spear  from  my  right  lunged  past  and 
almost  grazed  my  back,  and  stuck  firmly  into  the 
soil."  Again:  "Another  spear  was  thrown  at  me  by 
an  unseen  assailant,  and  it  missed  me  by  about  a  foot 
in  front.  Guns  were  fired  into  the  dense  mass  of 
forest,  but  with  no  effect,  for  nothing  could  be  seen; 
but  we  heard  the  men  jeering  and  denouncing  us 
close  by;  two  of  our  party  were  slain." 

From  July  20th  to  October  23d,  there  was  weary 
travel  and  dangerous,  with  such  vexations  as  these: 
roads  covered  with  angular  fragments  of  quartz  very 
sore  to  feet;  two  men  sick;  people  falsely  accused  of 
stealing; equinoctial  gales; ill  all  night; two  days'  rest 


248 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


from  weakness;  calico;  telescope;  umbrella  and  five 
spears  lost  by  one  of  the  slaves  throwing  down  the 
load  and  taking  up  his  own  bundle  of  country  cloth; 
"five  hours  of  running  the  gauntlet  waylaid  by  spear- 
men who  all  felt  that  if  they  killed  me  they  would  be 
revenging  the  death  of  relations." 

But  he  reached  Ujiji,  reduced  to  a  skeleton,  and 
making  inquiries  respecting  the  goods  sent  there  from 
Zanzibar,  found  that  there  was  not  "a  single  yard  of 
calico  out  of  three  thousand,  nor  a  string  of  beads 
out  of  seven  hundred  pounds."  For  one  Shereef, 
"a  moral  idiot,"  had  divined  on  the  Koran  and  the 
Fates  had  declared  that  Livingstone  was  dead.  So 
Shereef,  without  a  shadow  of  right,  had  sold  all,  and 
Livingstone  was  a  beggar  in  a  land  of  enemies,  un- 
able to  pay  those  in  his  train,  unable  to  go  forward 
to  do  his  work. 

And  what  had  he  done?  \Vhzt  was  the  net  result 
of  all  this  wandering,  all  this  criss-crossing  of  tracks, 
all  this  going  back  and  forth?  It  is  well  to  take  stock 
for  a  moment.  In  taking  stock,  a  crude  comparison 
may  help. 

Suppose  an  intelligent  beetle  had  resolved  to  under- 
stand the  topography  of  a  couple  of  hundred  acres  of 
broken  land.  Suppose  the  beetle  had  decided  to  learn 
whether  this  rivulet  and  that  were  separate  and  dis- 
tinct, or  ran  together  to  make  a  creek.  Suppose 
within  the  compass  of  those  hundreds  of  acres,  the 
beetle,  with  its  limited  means  of  locomotion,  had 
measured  hills,  had  walked  the  length  and  width  of 


LIVINGSTONE    AND  STANLEY 


249 


a  ridge  here  and  another  there  to  decide  whether  it 
was  a  table-land  or  a  series  of  ridges.    Suppose,  in  a 
word,  the  beetle  mapped  and  measured  and  charted 
the  hundred  acres,  and  all  so  thoroughly  that  from 
its  penned  results  a  relief  map  could  be  made,  correct 
in  its  important  elements.    Something  Uke  that 
Livingstone  did  in  Central  Africa,  afoot,  living  on 
I  the  land,  almost  unaided  and  often  opposed.  — 
He  showed  that  in  Central  Africa  there  was  a 
mighty  watershed  stretching  east  and  west  between 
latitudes  10°  and  12°  South — a  forest-clad  belt  700 
miles  wide.    On  a  plateau  with  an  elevation  above 
sea-level  of  from  4,000  to  5,000  feet  there  were  moun- 
!  tains  from  5,000  to  6,000  feet  above  sea-level.  On 
this  high  land  rose  many  streams,  which  on  the  north 
'  side  converged  and  met  in  lowlands  which  Living- 
stone suspected  formed  the  Nile  valley.    In  this 
valley  were  three  large  rivers  which  united  in  "an 
;  enormous  lacustrine  river"to  use  Livingstone's  words. 
'  That  swamp  river  was  the  Lualaba — Webb's  Lualaba 
'  he  called  it,  to  distinguish  it  from  other  rivers  of  the 
'  same  name,  and  to  honor  his  friend,  Webb  of  New- 
,  stead  Abbey.    In  that  valley  he  found  five  great 
I  lakes,  Tanganyika,  Kamolondo,  Moero,  Bangweolo, 
and  Nyassa.    Bemba  or  Bangweolo  received  the 
I  river  Chambezi  and  had  an  outlet  by  the  Luapula, 
i  which  eventually  flowed  into  Lake  Moero;  from  Lake 
t  Moero  poured  Webb's  Lualaba,  which,  after  a  tortu- 
I  ous  course,  fell  into  Lake  Kamolondo.    The  second 
I  of  the  rivers  to  make  the  lacustrine  river  was  the 
:  Lufira,  which  fell  into  the  Lualaba  north  of  Kamolon- 


1 


250 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


do.  The  third  tributary  to  the  swamp  river  was  the 
Lomami,  which  flowed  from  a  lake  to  the  west  of 
Kamolondo;  Lake  Lincoln,  it  was  named  by  Living- 
stone. The  three  united  rivers  then  flowed  north- 
ward to  an  unknown  lake,  and  it  was  that  unknown 
which  Livingstone  sought  when  he  turned  to  Ujiji. 
As  he  saw  it,  there  were  about  180  miles  of  country  to 
explore  and  his  task  would  be  done.  Then  he  would 
know,  definitely,  whether  all  this  water  system  had 
to  do  with  the  head  waters  of  the  Nile  or  with  the 
Congo. 

There  were  other  questions  to  be  answered.  Had 
Lake  Tanganyika  an  outlet  at  its  northern  end? 
What  was  the  course  of  the  Lualaba  after  it  left  the 
unknown  lake?  What  of  the  possible  and  early 
establishment  of  a  clean,  white-ruled  settlement  in 
Africa?  What  of  the  breaking  up  of  the  slave  trade? 
So,  as  we  see,  Livingstone  forestalled  Cecil  Rhodes. 
Indeed,  Rhodesia's  capital  was  finally  set  on  a  spot 
that  Livingstone,  in  his  mind's  eye,  had  seen  peopled 
by  a  strong  and  forward-looking  race. 

Under  the  date  October  24,  1871,  Livingstone 
records  this:  "When  my  spirits  were  at  their  lowest 
ebb,  the  good  Samaritan  was  close  at  hand,  for  one 
morning  Susi  came  running  at  the  top  of  his  speed 
and  gasped  out,  'An  Englishman!  I  see  him!'  and 
off  he  darted  to  meet  him.  The  American  flag  at  the 
head  of  a  caravan  told  of  the  nationahty  of  the 
stranger.  Bales  of  goods,  baths  of  tin,  huge  kettles, 
cooking  pots,  tents,  etc.,  made  me  think  'This  must 


LIVINGSTONE    AND    STANLEY  2^1 

be  a  luxurious  traveler,  and  not  one  at  his  wits' 
end  like  me.'"  The  actual  date  was  October  i8, 
1 871,  and  Stanley's  account  runs  thus:  "We  were 
now  about  three  hundred  yards  from  the  village  of 
Ujiji,  and  the  crowds  are  dense  about  me.  Suddenly 
I  hear  a  voice  on  my  right  say, 
"'Good-morning,  sir!' 

"Startled  at  hearing  this  greeting  in  the  midst  of 
such  a  crowd  of  black  people,  I  turn  sharply  around  in 
search  of  the  man,  and  see  him  at  my  side,  with  the 
blackest  of  faces,  but  animated  and  joyous — a  man 
dressed  in  a  long  white  shirt,  with  a  turban  of  Ameri- 
can sheeting  around  his  woolly  head,  and  I  ask: 

"'Who  the  mischief  are  you?' 

"'I  am  Susi,  the  servant  of  Dr.  Livingstone,'  said 
he,  smiling,  and  showing  a  gleaming  row  of  teeth. 

"'What!    Is  Dr.  Livingstone  here?' 

"'Yes,  sir.' 

"'In  this  village?' 

"'Yes,  sir.' 

"'Are  you  sure?' 

"'Sure,  sure,  sir.    Why,  I  leave  him  just  now.' 
'"Good-morning,  sir,'  said  another  voice. 
"'Hallo,'  said  I,  'is  this  another  one?' 
'"Yes,  sir.' 

"'Well,  what  is  your  name?' 
"'My  name  is  Chumah,  sir.' 
'"What!    Are  you  Chumah,  the  friend  of  Weko- 
tani?' 

'"Yes,  sir.' 

'"And  is  the  Doctor  well?' 


252 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


"'Not  very  well,  sir.' 

.  .  Now  you,  Susi,  run  and  tell  the  Doctor 
I  am  coming.'  .  .  .  and  off  he  darted  like  a 
madman.   .   .  ." 

Then  Selim,  Stanley's  attendant,  said  to  his  mas- 
ter, "I  see  the  Doctor,  sir.  Oh,  what  an  old  man! 
He  has  got  a  white  beard."  And  Stanley,  in  the 
delight  of  triumph  and  success,  emotional  at  heart, 
good,  and  honest,  was  suddenly  strangely  ashamed 
of  an  appearance  of  sentiment.  Like  a  sound, 
wholesome  fellow,  he  tells  us  quite  frankly  and  un- 
affectedly about  himself  and  his  feelings:  "What 
would  I  not  have  given  for  a  bit  of  friendly  wilder- 
ness, where,  unseen,  I  might  vent  my  joy  in  some 
mad  freak,  such  as  idiotically  biting  my  hand,  turn- 
ing a  somersault,  or  slashing  at  trees,  in  order  to  allay 
those  exciting  feelings  that  were  well-nigh  uncon- 
trollable. My  heart  beats  fast,  but  I  must  not  let 
my  face  betray  my  emotions,  lest  it  shall  detract 
from  the  dignity  of  a  white  man  appearing  under 
such  extraordinary  circumstances.  So  I  did  that 
which  I  thought  was  most  dignified.  I  pushed  back 
the  crowds,  and,  passing  from  the  rear,  walked  down 
a  Hving  avenue  of  people,  until  I  came  in  front  of  the 
semi-circle  of  Arabs,  in  the  front  of  which  stood  the 
white  man  with  the  gray  beard.  As  I  advanced 
slowly  towards  him  I  noticed  he  was  pale,  looked 
wearied,  had  a  gray  beard,  wore  a  bluish  cap  with  a 
faded  gold  band  round  it,  had  on  a  red-sleeved  waist- 
coat, and  a  pair  of  gray  tweed  trousers.  I  would 
have  run  to  him,  only  I  was  a  coward  in  the  presence 


LIVINGSTONE    AND  STANLEY 


253 


of  such  a  mob;  would  have  embraced  him,  only,  he 
being  an  Englishman,  I  did  not  know  how  he  would 
receive  me;  so  I  did  what  cowardice  and  false  pride 
suggested  was  the  best  thing — walked  dehberately 
to  him,  took  off  my  hat,  and  said: 

"'Dr.  Livingstone,  I  presume?* 

"'Yes,*  said  he,  with  a  kind  smile,  lifting  his  cap 
slightly. 

"I  replace  my  hat  on  my  head,  and  he  puts  on  his 
cap,  and  we  both  grasp  hands,  and  I  then  say  aloud: 

'"I  thank  God,  Doctor,  I  have  been  permitted  to 
see  you.' 

"He  answered:  *I  feel  thankful  that  I  am  here  to 
welcome  you.'" 

There  is  the  ring  of  sincerity  about  that  report  of 
Stanley's  meeting  with  Livingstone.  No  cant  or 
talk  about  impressive  deeds  done;  no  oratory  or 
resonant  phrases  written  long  after  the  event,  of  a 
kind  to  deceive  only  those  who  "wish  to  be  deceived. 
But  just  plain,  downright  bashfulness — and,  doubt- 
less, for  an  hour  or  so,  stiffness  and  angularity  when 
they  were  alone.  And  yet,  behind  all,  delicate  feel- 
ings deep  down,  and  an  appreciation  too  fine  to  be 
talked  about. 

But  the  strangeness  wore  off  in  time,  though  not 
so  rapidly  as  it  would  in  the  case  of  men  accustomed 
to  rub  elbows  with  those  of  their  own  kind,  in  daily 
intercourse.  A  habit  of  what  may  be  called  fortifica- 
tion against  surprise  grows  in  the  lone  man,  and, 
also,  exhibitions  of  emotion  are  sparingly  indulged. 


254 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


Hence  a  difficulty.  "I  am  not  of  demonstrative 
turn,"  writes  Livingstone,  reporting  the  meeting 
and  those  first  hours. 

Stanley  gives  a  picture  of  the  two  of  them  trying 
to  establish  a  sense  of  contact  and  geniality,  with  a 
prefatory  asking  of  questions.  Then  they  settled 
down  a  little,  and  Livingstone  listened  while  his  mail 
lay  unopened,  Stanley  telling  of  world  events  "and 
enacting  the  part  of  an  annual  periodical,"  with  swift 
summaries  of  the  completion  of  the  Pacific  Railroad, 
the  election  of  Grant  as  president,  the  end  of  the 
rebellion  in  Crete,  the  revolution  in  Spain  and  the  de- 
thronement of  Isabella,  the  annexation  of  Schleswig- 
Holstein,  the  humbling  of  Denmark,  the  surrounding 
of  Paris,  France  with  her  head  bowed  low,  the  affair 
of  the  Alabama  claims,  how  bicycles  and  tricycles  had 
come  into  use,  how  Fenians  had  been  active,  and  how 
there  had  been  strikes  and  riots  in  coal-mining  dis- 
tricts, how  gaslight  was  being  tried  for  use  in  hght- 
houses,  of  the  doings  of  one  James  Fisk  in  New  York, 
of  the  discovery  of  diamonds  in  South  Africa. 

While  talking,  Stanley  was  reading  history,  learn- 
ing much  more  than  words  could  tell.  For  Living- 
stone was  quiet,  but  "every  hair  of  his  head  and 
beard,  every  wrinkle  of  his  face,  the  wanness  of  his 
features,  and  the  slightly  wearied  look  he  wore^  were 
all  imparting  intelligence,"  wrote  Stanley.  His  dress 
"exhibited  traces  of  patching  and  repairing,  but  was 
scrupulously  clean." 

Stanley  had  been  led  to  believ,e  that  Livingstone 
was  a  man  difficult  to  get  along  with,  fractious  and 


LIVINGSTONE    AND    STANLEY  255 

fitful,  quarrelsome,  dogmatic,  dour,  and  much  more. 
The  scandal-loving  tongues  of  moral  degenerates 
had  been  busy,  and  it  was  reported  on  the  coast  and 
elsewhere  that  the  explorer  had  made  alliance  with  a 
negress — that  he  was  the  consort  of  an  African 
princess — that  he  had  grown  rich  trading  with 
natives.  But  Stanley  had  eyes  to  see  and  a  heart  to 
feel,  and  there  was  the  man  before  him.  No  words 
were  needed.  The  old  lion  had  come  triumphant 
through  crisis  and  trial.  The  fiber  of  him  was  sweet 
and  wholesome.  Stanley  saw  the  man  as  one  un- 
complaining, looking  upon  hunger  and  hardship  and 
sickness  and  pain  as  little  more  than  shadows  through 
which  he  had  to  pass  on  his  way  to  the  goal.  "His 
gentleness  never  forsakes  him,"  Stanley  wrote. 
"His  hopefulness  never  deserts  him.  .  .  .  To 
duty  ...  he  sacrificed  his  home  and  ease,  the 
pleasures,  refinements,  and  luxuries  of  civilized  life. 
His  is  the  Spartan  heroism,  the  inflexibility  of  the 
Roman,  the  enduring  resolution  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 
— never  to  relinquish  his  work,  though  his  heart 
yearns  for  home;  never  to  surrender  his  obhgations 
until  he  can  write  Finis  to  his  work.  .  .  .  His  1 
religion  is  not  of  the  theoretical  kind,  but  is  a  con- 
stant, earnest,  sincere  practice.  It  is  neitlier  demon- 
strative nor  loud,  but  manifests  itself  in  a  quiet, 
practical  way,  and  is  always  at  work.  ...  It 
governs  his  conduct.  .  .  .  Religion  has  made 
him  the  most  companionable  of  men  and  indulgent  of 
masters — a  man  whose  society  is  pleasurable  to  a 
I  degree." 


256 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


There  is  this  again:  "Whenever  he  began  to  laugh, 
there  was  a  contagion  about  it.  .  .  .  It  was  a 
laugh  of  the  whole  man  from  head  to  foot.  .  .  . 
The  wan  features  which  had  shocked  me  at  first 
meeting,  the  heavy  step  which  told  of  age  and  hard 
travel;  the  gray  beard  and  bowed  shoulders,  behed 
the  man.  Underneath  that  well-worn  exterior  lay 
an  endless  fund  of  high  spirits  and  inexhaustible 
good-humor;  that  rugged  frame  of  his  enclosed  a 
young  and  most  exuberant  soul.  Every  day  I  heard 
innumerable  jokes  and  pleasant  anecdotes.  .  .  . 
I  was  not  sure  at  first  but  this  joviality,  humor,  and 
abundant  animal  spirits  were  the  result  of  a  joyous 
hysteria;  but  as  I  found  they  continued  while  I  was 
with  him,  I  was  obliged  to  think  them  natural." 
Reading  that  passage,  there  comes  to  mind  Living- 
stone's youthful  letter  to  Mr.  Cecil,  in  which,  at  a 
time  of  inward  questionings,  he  wondered  why  he 
was  happy  and  hght-hearted,  saying  that  he  felt 
himself  to  be  "in  a  great  deal  more  danger  from 
levity  than  from  melancholy."  It  is  abundantly 
clear  that  the  splendor  of  cheerfulness  never  left  him. 
The  common-sense  explanation  of  his  gaiety  is  that 
the  man  entered  so  fully  into  the  joy  of  life  itself  that 
he  could  not  take  things  ruefully,  or  heavily,  or 
sorrowfully.  Nor  can  anyone  in  whom  the  sap  of 
Hfe  runs  strongly.  Indeed,  I  repeat,  had  the  man 
taken  things  heavily,  he  could  never  have  accom- 
plished a  fraction  of  the  things  he  did  accompHsh. 

Another  thing  noticed  by  Stanley  was  the  flow  of 
happy  fragrant  memories  which  came  from  Living- 


LIVINGSTONE    AND    STANLEY  257 

Stone.  He  was  amazed  to  discover  in  one  who  had 
spent  his  life  in  the  company  of  untutored  natives  so 
pleasant  and  refreshing  a  companion.  Also  he  was 
struck  with  wonder  because  of  that  store  of  knowledge 
which  Livingstone  possessed,  though  he  had  no  book 
but  the  Bible  in  his  possession.  So  Stanley  wrote 
this:  .  .  another  thing  which  specially  at- 
tracted my  attention  was  his  wonderfully  retentive 
memory.  If  we  remember  the  many  years  he  has 
spent  in  Africa,  deprived  of  books,  we  may  well  think 
it  an  uncommon  memory  that  can  recite  whole 
poems  from  Byron,  Burns,  Tennyson,  Longfellow, 
Whittier,  and  Lowell.  ...  He  has  lived  in  a 
world  which  revolved  inwardly,  out  of  which  he 
seldom  awoke  except  to  attend  to  the  immediate 
practical  necessities  of  himself  and  people;  then  re- 
lapsed again  into  the  same  happy  inner  world,  which 
he  must  have  peopled  with  his  own  friends,  relations, 
acquaintances,  famihar  readings,  ideas  and  associa- 
tions, so  that,  wherever  he  might  be,  by  whatsoever 
he  might  be  surrounded,  his  own  world  always  pos- 
sessed more  attractions  to  his  cultured  mind  than 
were  yielded  by  external  circumstances." 

Thus,  then,  the  impressions  of  the  last  white  man 
to  see  the  explorer  in  life. 


CHAPTER  XII 


THE  LAST  MARCH 


E  PICTURE  pleasant  times  after  the  first 


V  V  shock  of  meeting,  with  the  reed-thatched  house 
at  Ujiji  a  very  palace  of  joy.  They  celebrated  their 
meeting  with  a  bottle  of  Sillery  champagne,  drinking 
out  of  silver  goblets.  Friendship,  presently,  must 
have  seemed  the  greatest  reality  in  the  world.  And 
as  Livingstone  talked,  he  seemed  to  be  full  of  memo- 
ries of  happiness.  There  were  well-cooked  meals,  too, 
a  strange  change  for  the  man  who  had  lived  for  so 
long  on  maize  that  he  had  loosened  his  teeth  "trying 
to  grind  the  grains."  There  were  pleasant  things, 
such  as  tablecloths,  and  knives  and  forks  and  plates, 
cups  and  saucers  and  silver  spoons,  a  silver  teapot 
and  a  Persian  rug  and  a  bathtub. 

And  they  argued  and  debated  over  plans,  Living- 
stone resolutely  refusing  to  go  to  England  until  his 
work  was  finished,  Stanley,  soon  somewhat  be- 
wildered by  the  complexity  of  things,  trying  to  per- 
suade him.  But  there  was  very  little  hesitating  on 
Livingstone's  part,  and  while  plans  and  proposals 
were  seriously  weighed  and  considered,  he  came  to  a 
swift  decision,  thus.  With  Stanley,  he  would  explore 
the  Tanganyika  by  water,  then  he  would  do  what  he 
had  to  do.    "I  would  very  much  like  to  go  home  and 


THE    LAST  MARCH 


259 


see  my  children,"  Stanley  reports  him  as  saying: 
"But  I  cannot  bring  my  heart  to  abandon  the  task  I 
have  undertaken,  when  it  is  so  nearly  completed.  It 
only  requires  six  or  seven  months  more  to  trace  the 
true  source  that  I  have  discovered  with  Petherick's 
branch  of  the  White  Nile,  or  with  the  Albert  N'Yanza 
of  Sir  Samuel  Baker  which  is  the  lake  called  by  the 
natives  Chowambe.  Why  should  I  go  home  before 
my  task  is  ended,  to  have  to  come  back  again  to  do 
what  I  can  very  well  do  now?"  Thus  spoke  the  in- 
domitable warrior,  nor,  as  Stanley  knew,  was  there  a 
step  in  his  programme  which  would  not  be  carried 
out  as  planned.  The  most  he  would  concede  was 
that  Stanley  might  accompany  him  to  Unyanyembe, 
or  Tabora  as  it  was  otherwise  called,  a  native  town 
about  220  air  miles  due  east  of  Ujiji.  There  Living- 
stone could  wait  until  Stanley  sent  up  from  the  coast 
necessary  supplies,  and  fifty  or  sixty  good  men,  not 
slaves.  But  first,  they  would  explore  the  Lake 
Tanganyika  together. 

They  did  that,  and  the  canoe  they  used  was  a  great 
one,  with  a  capacity  of  twenty-five  men  and  pro- 
visions for  a  week.  Stanley  hints  at  a  scene  of  ex- 
traordinary beauty;  of  blurring  softness  of  wooded 
and  grassy  hills  reflected  in  green  waters;  of  drowsy 
warm  air  and  violet  horizons;  of  flowering  slopes 
from  which  came  scent-laden  breezes;  of  brooding 
bays  where  wondering  natives  lived;  of  valleys  with 
dim  untried  paths;  of  deep  ravines  and  quiet  pools. 
An  apprentice  in  that  kind  of  travel,  he  somewhat 
magnified.    But  for  Livingstone,  the  expedition  was 


26o 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


no  more  than  "a  picnic."  The  geographical  results 
were  a  proving  that  there  was  no  outlet  for  the 
Tanganyika  to  the  north,  and  that  the  river  Rusizi 
flowed  into  it.  The  trip  was  not  adventureful,  yet 
not  without  incident.  There  had  been  incipient 
friction  with  natives,  but  always  Livingstone  had 
smoothed  matters  over  with  a  word,  a  command, 
some  piece  of  quick  action.  Given  a  moment  of  dis- 
turbance, he  would  leap  back  swiftly  to  order. 
Stanley,  newer  to  the  business,  perhaps  nervous  be- 
cause of  fever,  would  have  tried  harsh  measures,  but 
Livingstone's  was  always  the  restraining  hand. 

For  instance,  Stanley  records  this:  "About  halfway 
between  Cape  Kisanwe  and  Murembeve  .  .  . 
[the  natives]  .  .  .  cabled  to  us  to  come  ashore, 
threatening  us  with  the  vengeance  of  the  great  Wami 
if  we  did  not  halt.  .  .  .  Finding  threats  of  no 
avail,  they  had  recourse  to  stones,  and  flung  them 
at  us  in  a  most  hearty  manner.  As  one  came  within 
a  foot  of  my  arm  I  suggested  a  bullet  should  be  sent 
in  return  .  .  .  but  Livingstone,  though  he  said 
nothing,  showed  clearly  that  he  did  not  approve  of 
this."  David  Livingstone's  account  of  the  same 
incident  shows  him  passing  over  the  aff"air  as  a  mere 
nothing:  "Passed  a  very  crowded  population,  the 
men  calling  on  us  to  land  and  be  fleeced  and  insulted; 
they  threw  stones,  and  one,  apparently  slung,  Hghted 
close  to  the  canoe.    .    .    . " 

There  is  another  interesting  instance,  with  Living- 
stone managing  those  about  him,  those  of  his  party 
and  those  not  of  it,  with  a  sort  of  harmonious  activity, 


THE    LAST  MARCH 


261 


all  the  while  as  plain  and  unemotional  as  Conrad's 
Captain  MacWhirr;  and  with  Stanley  in  a  state  of 
half-romantic  excitement,  writing  about  the  "picnic" 
and  the  incidental  flurry  whicli  Livingstone  glanced 
at  en  passant,  as  if  it  all  involved  immeasurable 
risks.  Some  have  denounced  Stanley  as  a  sensation- 
alist, but  I  think  the  difference  in  the  accounts  was 
a  matter  of  temperament  and  experience.  Thus 
Stanley: 

"Our  kettle  was  boiling  for  tea,  and  the  men 
had  built  a  little  fire  for  themselves,  and  had  filled 
their  earthen  pot  with  water  for  porridge,  when  our 
lookouts  perceived  dark  forms  creeping  towards 
our  bivouac.  Being  hailed,  they  came  forward,  and 
saluted  us  with  the  native  'wake.^  Our  guides  ex- 
plained that  we  were  zvangwana  (whites)  and  intended 
to  camp  till  morning,  when,  if  they  had  anything  to 
sell,  we  would  trade.  They  said  they  were  rejoiced 
to  hear  this,  and  after  they  had  exchanged  a  few 
words  more — during  which  we  observed  that  they 
were  taking  notes  of  the  camp — went  away.  Three 
other  parties  followed,  and  retired  in  like  manner. 
We  had  good  cause  to  be  suspicious  at  this  going  back- 
ward and  forward,  and,  as  our  supper  had  been  des- 
patched, we  thought  it  high  time  to  act.  The  men 
were  hurried  into  the  canoe,  and  when  all  were 
seated,  and  the  lookouts  embarked,  we  quietly 
pushed  off,  but  not  a  moment  too  soon.  As  the  canoe 
glided  from  the  darkened  light  that  surrounded  us,  I 
called  the  Doctor's  attention  to  dark  forms,  some 
crouching  behind  the  rocks  on  our  right,  others 


262 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


scrambling  over  them,  and  directly  a  voice  hailed  us 
from  the  top  of  the  bank,  under  which  we  had  lately 
been  resting.  'Neatly  done,'  said  the  Doctor,  as 
we  shot  through  the  water,  leaving  the  discomfited 
would-be  robbers  behind  us.  Here  again  my  hand 
was  stayed  from  planting  a  couple  of  shots  as  a  warn- 
ing to  them,  by  the  presence  of  the  Doctor."  And 
here  is  Livingstone's  account: 

"Landed  under  a  cliff  to  rest  and  cook,  but  a  crowd 
came  and  made  inquiries,  then  a  few  more  came  as  if 
to  investigate  more  perfectly.  They  told  us  to  sleep, 
and  to-morrow  friendship  should  be  made.  We  put 
our  luggage  on  board,  and  set  a  watch  on  the  cliff. 
A  number  of  men  came  along  cowering  behind  rocks, 
and  we  slipped  off  quietly;  they  called  after  us  as 
men  baulked  of  their  prey."  With  that  he  dismisses 
the  incident.  For  in  him  was  the  Bunyan  desire  to 
"set  down  the  thing  as  it  was,"  to  be  as  simple  and 
direct  as  possible.  Stanley,  no  less  desirous  of  ac- 
curacy, but  more  excitable  and  less  experienced,  saw 
differently. 

They  reached  Ujiji  again  December  14,  1871,  and 
rested  there  until  December  27th,  then  embarked  in  a 
couple  of  canoes,  Livingstone  and  his  five  faithfuls  in 
one,  Stanley  and  his  men  in  the  other.  They  cruised 
to  the  south  end  of  Tanganyika,  and  on  January  7, 
1872,  left  the  lake  and  started  inland.  On  February 
1 8th,  fifty-three  days  after  they  had  left  Ujiji,  they 
were  in  Unyanyembe,  and  the  day  of  Livingstone's 
farewell  to  the  last  white  man  he  was  destined  to  see 
was  at  hand. 


THE    LAST  MARCH 


263 


Now  men  who  are  fifty  days  together  must  either  j 
be  sullen  and  self-centered,  or  must  learn  to  talk 
freely  of  their  interests  and  hopes  and  beliefs.  They 
must  either  think  aloud  and  so  give  confidence  and 
awake  affection,  or  they  must  walk  side  by  side  each 
shut  up  within  himself,  stone  walls  of  misunderstand- 
ing between  them.  Livingstone  and  Stanley,  crystal 
clear  to  each  other,  soon  found  that  fellowship  which 
is  life,  and  each  was  to  the  other  a  pleasant  and  re- 
freshing companion.  They  were  drawn  together  by 
many  things,  by  the  joys  of  toil  and  adventure,  by 
their  mutual  trust,  by  that  fine  perception  which 
must  come  when  men  are  frank  and  free. 

Suddenly  there  is  this  entry,  made  by  Livingstone: 
"March  14th.  Mr.  Stanley  leaves.  I  commit  to 
his  care  my  journal  sealed  with  five  seals;  the  im- 
pressions on  them  are  those  of  an  American  gold  coin, 
anna  and  half  anna,  and  cake  of  paint  with  royal 
arms.    Positively  not  to  be  opened." 

I  think  that  Livingstone,  with  his  stern,  business- 
Hke  temperament,  was  more  than  half  glad  to  be 
alone  again  with  his  task.  I  think  that  the  change 
from  companionship  to  solitude  left  him  almost 
grateful,  and  if  there  was  any  bitterness  in  the  fare- 
well, there  was  a  sweetness  also.  The  feeling  of  sor- 
row and  the  grieving  at  severed  ties  would  have  come 
with  his  leaving  Africa  and  giving  up  that  duty  which 
dominated  him.  Indeed,  his  body  and  mind  were  of 
Africa's  soil,  of  its  water,  of  its  air.  Africa's  problems 
were  his  fife  work.  Even  Stanley  could  really  have 
known  neither  the  great  vision  of  an  enlightened  and 


264 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


peaceful  Africa  that  ruled  Livingstone's  mind  nor  the 
something  deep  in  him  that  always  yearned  for  what 
was  farther,  farther  on.  So  one  need  not  try  to  read 
behind  or  between  the  Hnes  of  that  entry.  Bidding 
farewell  to  Stanley,  what  was  in  the  explorer's  mind 
was  a  tremendous  relief  that  the  record  of  things  done 
was  on  its  way  to  England,  and  that  because  of  the 
dreadful  brevity  of  Hfe  and  the  pressing  things  all 
about,  anything  that  made  nearer  his  journey  into 
the  unknown,  was  to  be  welcomed  with  eagerness. 
In  that  brief  and  hasty  span  of  life,  so  much  had 
to  be  done.  Recreation  seemed  trivial.  For  him 
there  were  no  wayside  rests.  There  was  only  his  ap- 
pointed task.  So  we  are  prepared  for  this  heart's 
cry:  "March  igth.  Birthday.  My  Jesus,  my  king, 
my  life,  my  all;  I  again  dedicate  myself  wholly  to 
Thee.  Accept  me,  and  grant,  oh,  gracious  Father, 
that  ere  this  year  is  gone  I  may  finish  my  task.  In 
Jesus'  name  I  ask  it.  Amen,  so  let  it  be.  David 
Livingstone." 

The  parting  meant  more  to  the  romantic,  eager, 
impetuous  Stanley;  the  emotional  Stanley  so  full  of 
love  and  admiration  and  respect.  The  entry  shows 
a  Stanley  not  afraid  of  his  emotions,  full  of  the  rare 
quality  of  friendship,  grieving  because  of  the  stress  of 
fate  and  fortune  which  separated  them,  when  he 
would  wilHngly  have  played  an  Amis  to  the  other's 
Amiel. 

"At  dawn  we  were  up.  The  bales  and  baggage 
were  taken  outside,  and  the  men  prepared  them- 

I 


THE    LAST  MARCH 


265 


selves  for  their  first  march  homewards.  We  had  a 
sad  breakfast  together.  I  couldn't  eat,  my  heart  was 
too  full;  nor  did  my  companion  seem  to  have  any 
appetite.  We  found  something  to  do  which  kept 
us  together.  At  eight  I  was  not  gone,  and  I  had 
thought  to  have  been  off  at  five  a.m.  'Doctor,  I'll 
leave  two  of  my  men.  Maybe  you've  forgotten 
something  in  the  hurry.  I'll  halt  a  day  at  Tara  for 
your  last  word  and  your  last  wish.  Now,  we  must 
part.    There's  no  help  for  it.  Good-bye.' 

"'Oh,  I'm  coming  with  you  a  little  way.  I  must 
see  you  on  the  road.' 

'"Thank  you.  Now,  my  men,  home!  Kirangoze, 
lift  the  flag.  March!' 

"On  the  walk  Livingstone  once  more  told  his  plans, 
and  it  was  settled  that  his  men  should  be  hired  for 
two  years  from  arrival  at  Unyanyembe,  to  give  ample 
margin  for  the  completion  of  his  work. 

"'Now,  my  dear  Doctor,  the  best  friends  must 
part.    You  have  come  far  enough.' 

"'Well,  I  will  say  this  to  you.  You  have  done 
what  few  men  could  do;  far  better  than  some  great 
travelers  I  know.  And  I  am  grateful  to  you  for 
what  you  have  done  for  me.  God  guide  you  safe 
home,  and  bless  you,  my  friend.' 

"'And  may  God  bring  you  back  safe  to  us  all,  my 
dear  friend.  Farewell.' 

"'Farewell.' 

"We  wrung  each  other's  hands,  and  I  had  to  tear 
myself  away  before  I  was  unmanned.    But  Susi,  and 


266 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


Chumah,  and  Hamaydah,  the  Doctor's  faithful 
fellows,  they  must  all  shake  and  kiss  my  hands;  be- 
fore I  could  turn  away,  I  betrayed  myself." 

Fifty-four  days  later,  on  the  evening  of  May  6, 
1872,  Stanley  and  his  men  were  in  Bangamoyo  again, 
and  there  presented  itself  one  of  those  strange  tangles 
in  human  afFairs  that  are  dizzying  to  contemplate. 
For  Stanley  ran  into  some  of  the  members  of  the  Liv- 
ingstone Search  and  Relief  Expedition,  and  out  of  the 
meeting  grew  all  kinds  of  arguments,  petty  personal- 
ities, blunders,  misunderstandings,  charges  and 
counter  charges.  Lieutenant  Llewellyn  S.  Dawson 
had  been  in  charge,  originally,  but  on  learning  of 
Stanley's  meeting  with  Livingstone  he  had  resigned. 
So  also  had  the  Reverend  Charles  New,  a  missionary 
from  Mombasa,  though  New  was  fiery  eager  to  go 
forward.  That  left  Lieutenant  William  Henn,  R.  N., 
and  Mr.  Oswell  Livingstone.  There  was  a  vast 
amount  of  talking  and  suggesting,  perhaps  a  clashing 
of  temperaments,  and  it  was  abundantly  clear  that 
the  Dawson  expedition  would  be  abandoned.  The 
newspapers  of  the  day  were  foul  with  the  dust  of 
argument,  with  this  one  and  that  of  the  party  full  of 
fierceness,  with  Dr.  Kirk  angry  and  a  little  defiant  be- 
cause he  felt  the  sting  of  Livingstone's  reproach  with 
regard  to  the  slaves  he  had  sent  as  relief.  Stanley, 
it  appears,  was  eager  that  Oswell  Livingstone  should 
take  charge  of  the  caravan  being  prepared  for  the 
explorer,  but,  writes  Stanley:  "Oswell  Livingstone 
changed  his  mind,  and  surprised  me  with  a  note  stat- 


THE    LAST  MARCH 


267 


ing  that  he  had  decided  not  to  go  to  Unyanyembe, 
for  reasons  he  thought  just  and  sufficient."  He  con- 
tinues: "I  ventured  to  suggest  that  it  was  his  duty  to 
go,  since  he  had  come  so  far  as  Zanzibar;  but  it  was 
evident  he  acted  as  he  thought  best.    .    .  ." 

From  that  flurry  in  Zanzibar  an  emotional  wave 
ran  to  England,  across  the  Atlantic,  and  so  over  the 
whole  world.  It  developed  into  one  of  those  ex- 
traordinary acrimonious  excitements,  quite  senseless 
because  in  them  wisdom  and  enlightenment  have  least 
to  say  and  men  are  roused  to  rankling  anger  quite 
unnecessarily.  Examples  of  this  sort  of  thing  are  the 
Sampson-Schley  affair,  the  Charles  Gordon-Glad- 
stone controversy,  the  Cook-Peary-North  Pole  noise, 
the  trouble  following  Balaklava.  History  is  full  of 
such  grotesque  displays  of  petty  truculence. 

Meanwhile,  David  Livingstone  was  waiting  at 
Unyanyembe — waiting,  through  the  months  of  May, 
and  June,  and  July  and  up  until  the  middle  of  August 
before  news  of  his  men  came.  But  there  was  other 
news,  a  letter  here  and  another  there,  passed  from 
hand  to  hand  through  the  jungle.  An  entry  record- 
ing the  receipt  of  one  such  document  is  read  with  a 
shock.  "June  2yth — i8y2 — Received  a  letter  from 
Oswell  yesterday,  dated  Bagamoio,  May  14th,  which 
awakened  thankfulness,  anxiety,  and  deep  sorrow." 
So  his  son  had  been  only  that  distance  from  him — a 
distance  which  a  letter  had  passed  over  in  six  weeks! 
Livingstone  leaves  many  things  concerning  his  own 
thoughts  untouched  and  untold,  but  in  reading  that 
passage  the  imagination  quickens. 


268 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


There  is  another  entry  about  Oswell,  dated  July 
3d,  which  runs:  "Received  a  note  from  Oswell, 
written  in  April  last,  containing  the  sad  intelligence 
of  Sir  Roderick's  departure  from  among  us.  Alas! 
alas!  this  is  the  only  time  I  ever  felt  inclined  to  use  the 
word,  and  it  bespeaks  a  sore  heart.  The  best  friend 
I  ever  had — true,  warm  and  abiding — he  loved  me 
more  than  I  deserved;  he  looks  down  on  me  still.  I 
must  feel  resigned  to  the  loss  by  the  Divine  Will,  but 
still  I  regret  and  mourn.  Wearisome  waiting  this; 
and  yet  the  men  cannot  be  here  before  the  middle 
or  end  of  this  month.  I  have  been  sorely  let  and 
hindered  in  this  journey,  but  it  may  have  been  all  for 
the  best.  I  will  trust  in  Him  to  whom  I  commit  my 
way. 

I  do  not  think  those  letters  left  him  unscathed.  I 
think  that  with  the  reading  of  them  something  went 
out  of  his  Hfe  and  left  a  shadow  of  disappointment 
and  of  loss  that  chilled  him  to  the  end.  In  the  Jour- 
nal thereafter,  incidents  are  not  recorded  with  laugh- 
ter and  smiles.  There  were  still  ardent  thoughts 
and  generous  dreams,  there  was  in  him  still  the 
beauty-loving  spirit,  but  somehow  he  was  like  one 
riding  alone  into  the  chill  of  darkened  forests,  the 
novelty  and  delight  of  enchanted  golden  glades  left 
behind. 

On  August  4th,  he  writes:  "The  men  came  yester- 
day, having  been  seventy-four  days  from  Bagamoio. 
Most  thankful  am  I  to  the  Giver  of  all  good.  I  have 
to  give  them  a  few  days'  rest  and  then  start."  And 


THE    LAST  MARCH 


269 


Stanley  had  done  his  task  well,  so  well  that  Living- 
stone was  as  full  of  gratitude  as  a  father  to  a  son. 
"A  dutiful  son  could  not  have  done  more  than  he 
generously  did.  I  bless  him,"  he  writes.  Then, 
with  no  less  of  a  sharply  defined  personality  at  the 
age  of  sixty  than  at  the  age  of  twenty-six,  the  execu- 
tive in  him  active,  he  set  to  work  parcelling  out  his 
loads,  fifty  pounds  weight  and  no  more  for  each  man. 
On  August  26,  1872,  alert  and  hopeful  once  more,  he 
moved  at  the  head  of  his  men  into  the  unknown. 

But  that  new  strength  was  fleeting.  After  three 
weeks  of  marching  we  have  this  significant  entry:  "I 
am  ill  with  bowels,  having  eaten  nothing  for  eight 
days,"  and  a  little  later,  "inwardly  I  feel  tired." 
After  that  he  was  always  in  the  shadow  of  ill-health. 

There  have  been  guesses  hazarded  to  account  for 
his  taking  a  southern  route.  Thomas  Hughes  was 
of  opinion  that  the  explorer  had  pondered  over  the 
story  told  to  Herodotus  by  the  priest  of  Minerva 
at  Sais,  and  was  inclined  to  identify  two  unexamined 
hills  west  of  Bangweolo  with  Crophi  and  Mophi, 
from  which  were  said  to  flow  two  rivers,  one  north 
through  Egypt,  the  other  to  Ethiopia.  Therefore 
he  wished  to  investigate.  After  that  he  would  turn 
north  in  search  of  the  unknown  lake,  and  so  over 
Lualaba  and  Tanganyika,  to  Ujiji,  and  so  home. 

Certainly  we  find  him  speculating  on  ancient 
geography  several  times,  sometimes  with  a  passing 
thought  as  if  he  would  Hke  to  make  a  systematic 
attempt  to  coordinate  the  facts  with  scriptural 


270 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


history  of  the  times  of  Moses.  While  waiting  for  his 
men  and  stores,  he  made  an  entry  dated  April 
15th,  which  reveals  a  deep  pondering  over  the  semi- 
legendary  "fountains"  of  Ptolemy,  thus:  "Ptolemy's 
geography  of  Central  Africa  seems  to  say  that  the 
science  was  then  (Second  Century  A.  D.)  in  a  state 
of  decadence  from  what  was  known  to  the  ancient 
Egyptian  priests,  as  revealed  to  Herodotus  six 
hundred  years  before  his  day  (or  say  B.  C.  440). 
They  seem  to  have  been  well  aware,  by  the  accounts 
of  travelers  or  traders,  that  a  great  number  of 
springs  contributed  to  the  origin  of  the  Nile,  but 
none  could  be  pointed  at  distinctly  as  the  "Foun- 
tains," except  those  I  long  to  discover.  Ptolemy 
seems  to  have  gathered  up  the  threads  of  ancient 
explorations,  and  made  many  springs  (six)  flow  into 
two  lakes  situated  east  and  west  of  each  other — the 
space  above  them  being  unknown.  If  the  Victoria 
Lake  were  large,  then  it  and  Albert  would  probably 
be  the  lakes  which  Ptolemy  meant,  and  it  would  be 
pleasant  to  call  them  Ptolemy's  sources,  rediscovered 
by  the  toil  and  enterprise  of  our  countrymen,  Speke 
and  Grant  and  Baker;  but  unfortunately  Ptolemy 
has  inserted  the  small  lake  Coloe  nearly  where  the 
Victoria  Lake  stands,  and  one  cannot  say  where  his 
two  lakes  are.  Of  lakes  Victoria,  Bangweolo,JVIoero, 
Kamolondo,  Lake  Lincoln  and  Lake  Albert,  which 
two  did  he  mean  ?  The  science  in  his  time  was  in  a 
state  of  decadence.  Were  two  lakes  not  the  reHcs  of 
a  greater  number  previously  known  ?  What  says  the 
most  ancient  map  known  of  Sethos  II's  time?" 


THE    LAST  MARCH 


271 


In  January  of  1873,  he  and  his  party  were  in  most 
terrible  country,  swampy  and  stream  lined,  with  cold 
water,  cold  winds,  and  cold  rain.  There  were  rivers 
to  cross,  over  which  Susi  carried  the  explorer,  "the 
water  coming  to  Susi's  mouth."  There  were  days 
when  they  could  not  see  the  sun  because  of  heavy 
leaden  clouds  that  scurried  across  the  sky.  For 
miles  they  waded  waist  deep.  When  out  of  water 
they  were  in  unwholesome  places  where  the  soil  smelt 
offensive  and  there  was  rank  vegetation.  And  the 
doughty  old  warrior  suffered  all  the  time  from 
hemorrhages.  Sometimes,  it  would  seem  that  he 
feared  a  fateful  change  in  himself.  At  any  rate, 
there  is  a  suspicion  of  vivid  apprehension  in  a  passage 
written  on  April  23  d,  though  it  may  be  presumptuous 
to  place  a  personal  interpretation  upon  it.  It  ran: 
"It  must  be  a  sore  affliction  to  be  bereft  of  one's 
reason,  and  the  more  so  if  the  insanity  takes  the  form 
of  uttering  thoughts  which  in  a  sound  state  we  drive 
from  us  as  impure." 

Nevertheless,  he  was  determined,  in  spite  of  all,  to 
complete  the  perfect  round.  "Nothing  earthly  will 
make  me  give  up  my  work  in  despair,"  he  writes. 
"I  encourage  myself  in  the  Lord  my  God,  and  go 
forward."  And  this  trumpet  call  to  all  the  world  at 
the  end  of  a  letter  to  the  New  York  Herald  trying  to 
enlist  American  zeal  against  the  East  Coast  slave 
trade:  "All  I  can  add,  in  my  loneliness,  is,  may 
Heaven's  rich  blessing  come  down  on  every  one, 
American,  English  or  Turk,  who  will  help  to  heal  the 
open  sore  of  the  world.  ' 


272 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


So,  onward  to  the  goal,  a  Httle  bewildered  some- 
times by  the  complexity  of  things,  as  all  men  are;  but 
determined  to  struggle  on  though  it  had  to  be  in 
feebleness,  very  determined  not  to  collapse  in  despair. 
He  went  forward,  shaking  and  trembling,  but  still 
headed  for  his  goal.  "I  am  pale,  bloodless,  and  weak, 
from  bleeding  profusely  ever  since  the  31st  of  March 
last;  an  artery  gives  off  a  copious  stream,  and  takes 
away  my  strength.  Oh,  how  I  long  to  be  permitted 
J  by  the  Over  Power  to  finish  my  work." 

We  find  the  last  entries,  written  in  strong,  de- 
termined hand,  swiftly,  because  he  knew  the  tide  was 
ebbing  fast: 

"April  2ist — Tried  to  ride,  but  was  forced  to  lie 
down,  and  they  carried  me  back  to  vil.  exhausted. 
"April 2 2d  — Carried  on  kitanda  over  Buga  S  W  2j 
"23d— Do.,  1 1 

"24th    Do.,  I 
"25th — Do.,  I 
"26'  —Do.,  2\ 
"Knocked  up  quite,  and  remain — recover — sent 
to  buy  milch  goats.    We  are  on  the  banks  of  the 
Molilamo." 

Then  the  explorer  dropped  his  pen.    The  march  / 
was  ended  and  the  battle  done.    The  place  was 
Chitambo's  village,  on  the  Lulinala,  in  Ilala. 

One  of  the  little  band,  who  loved  Livingstone 
dearly,  had  looked  into  the  hut  when  the  dawn  was 
breaking,  and,  seeing  the  man  on  his  knees  by  his 
bedside,  his  arms  flung  across  the  cot,  supposed  him 
to  be  praying.    Indeed,  such  a  man  might  have  died 


THE    LAST  MARCH 


in  the  midst  of  his  suppHcations,  and  we  can  well 
imagine  him,  his  heart  unconquered  though  his  body 
grievously  hurt,  praying,  "Dear  God!  A  little  longer, 
ah!  not  yet!" 

The  lad,  whose  name  was  Majwara,  listened  for 
the  sound  of  breathing;  then,  full  of  fear  at  the 
silence,  ran  to  Susi,  saying:  "Come  to  Bwana.  I 
am  afraid.  I  don't  know  if  he  is  alive."  Thereupon 
Susi  rose  up  and  went  into  the  hut,  and  saw  for  him- 
self. And  when  he  had  seen  he  called  the  others, 
telling  them  between  the  surges  of  his  grief  that  the 
leader  had  gone.  Then,  by  the  light  of  a  candle,  the 
six  performed  sad  offices,  and  the  thing  strange  and 
stark  that  was  not  Livingstone,  and  yet  was  Living- 
stone all  broken  and  undone,  was  laid  upon  the  cot 
and  decently  covered. 

Around  the  watch  fire  in  the  chill  of  the  morning, 
the  faithful  took  counsel  together.  They  spoke  of 
the  last  days  when  the  leader  was  faint  with  weariness 
and  pain;  of  how  they  had  grieved  because  of  his 
sufferings,  as  they  carried  him.  Susi,  whispering, 
told  how  at  dusk  he  had  gone  in  to  the  master,  who 
had  asked,  "Is  this  the  Luapula?"  Then  there  was 
a  moment  of  silence  after  Susi  had  said  that  they 
were  near  the  Molilamo,  but  only  a  moment.  The 
old  fire  that  had  consumed  Livingstone  ran  through 
his  veins  and  woke  him  to  life.  "How  many  days 
is  it  to  the  Luapula,  Susi.?"  he  asked,  and  the  answer 
was  given,  "I  think  it  is  three  days,  master."  After 
that  he  drifted  into  sleep. 


274 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


Once  in  the  night  he  woke  and  bade  Susi  prepare 
some  medicine  and  put  it  in  a  Httle  cup,  by  his  side. 
When  that  was  done,  he  thanked  his  man,  and  Susi 
was  sore  grieved  noting  the  feebleness  of  the  voice 
that  said,  "All  right;  you  can  go  out  now."  So, 
obedient  to  his  master,  Susi  went  outside  to  keep  his 
watch. 

Around  the  watch  fire  many  things  that  had  hap- 
pened during  those  last  days  were  recalled;  how  they 
had  carried  the  master  who  was  so  pain-racked  that 
the  swinging  of  the  Utter  was  too  much  for  him;  how 
a  great  thirst  came  on  him  at  a  time  when  there  was 
no  water  to  be  had;  how,  once,  he  had  said,  "Ah,  now 
we  are  near!";  how  he  had  walked  uncomplainingly, 
then,  while  few  suspected  his  extreme  weakness,  had 
tired  to  ride  an  ass  but  could  not,  and  at  last  con- 
fessed, saying,  "Chuma,  I  have  lost  so  much  blood, 
there  is  no  more  strength  in  my  legs.  You  must 
carry  me."  But  at  night,  no  matter  how  toilsome 
the  day  had  been,  the  master  had  always  written 
down  in  his  book  the  number  of  hours  traveled, 
though  his  hand  had  been  too  nerveless  to  do  more. 

But  there  were  things  to  be  done  and  the  faithful 
ones  were  not  of  the  sort  to  sit  dumbly  making  an 
idol  of  their  grief.  Under  that  lost  leadership  they 
had  learned  much  of  the  value  of  good  judgment,  of 
prudence,  of  steady,  persistent  effort.  And  responsi- 
bilities devolved  upon  them.  There  were  problems 
to  be  met  and  sound  common  sense  was  needed. 
The  body  of  the  leader  had  to  be  taken  many  many 
hundreds  of  miles  through  the  jungle  and  back  over 


THE    LAST  MARCH 


275 


the  trail  by  which  they  had  come.  It  would  have  to 
be  carried  over  lands  where  were  unfriendly  tribes, 
men  full  of  strange  superstitions  and  prejudices  about 
dead  bodies.  There  would  have  to  be  an  accounting 
for  things,  for  the  master  had  always  set  down  this 
and  that.  And  there  would  be  terrible  offices  to 
perform  before  the  body  of  the  explorer  could  be 
carried  to  the  sea. 

So  Jacob  Wainwright  took  the  master's  notebook 
and  wrote  this  in  the  back,  making  his  hst,  as  Susi 
and  Chuma  set  the  things  away  in  good  order: 
"In  the  chest  was  found  about  a  shilling  and  a  half, 
and  in  other  chest  his  hat,  i  watch,  and  2  boxes  of 
measuring  instrument,  and  in  each  box  there  was 
one.  I  compass,  3  other  kind  of  measuring  instru- 
ment. 4  other  kind  of  measuring  instrument.  And 
in  other  chest  3  drachmas  and  half  a  scruple.  Jacob 
Wainwright." 

As  for  the  body,  it  would  have  to  be  carried  to 
Zanzibar  after  being  prepared,  a  journey  of  about 
a  thousand  miles  with  the  twistings  and  turnings, 
through  swamp  and  over  mountain,  across  plateau 
and  through  jungle,  a  harsh  and  fearful  task,  but  not 
to  be  neglected. 

So,  reverently  the  body  was  prepared,  the  viscera 
decently  interred  at  the  foot  of  a  mvula  tree,  Jacob 
Wainwright  reading  the  service  for  the  Burial  of  the 
Dead.  Then  there  was  a  rough  embalming  of  the 
body  by  sun  exposure  and  the  use  of  salt,  after  which 
it  was  wrapped,  somewhat  as  mummies  are,  but 
with  the  knees  bent  for  convenience  of  carriage,  and 


276 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


also  to  prevent  suspicion  on  the  part  of  hostile  or 
superstitious  natives. 

Over  the  grave  the  natives  erected  a  monument  of 
wood  in  the  form  of  door  posts  and  Hntel,  and  on  the 
tree  Jacob  Wainwright  carved  an  inscription. 

After  that  it  was  just  workaday  plodding  for  the 
men  of  that  strange  funeral  procession.  Sometimes 
they  were  met  with  kindness,  but  at  other  times  they 
were  threatened.  Chuma  often  ran  ahead  of  the 
party  as  advance  guard,  and,  assuring  himself  that 
all  was  well,  sped  back  to  help  carry  the  burden. 
Thus  it  was  that  at  Unyanyembe  he  told  the  tidings 
to  the  first  Englishman  to  hear  them.  It  was 
Lieutenant  Cameron,  in  charge  of  a  Livingstone 
search  party.  That  was  October  20th,  and  the 
natives  had  carried  the  body  since  the  middle  of 
May.  The  British  officer,  astounded  at  the  magni- 
tude of  the  task  accomplished,  and  mindful  of  what 
remained  to  be  done  before  the  body  could  reach 
Zanzibar,  advocated  the  interment  of  the  remains 
then  and  there;  but  the  bearers  opposed  the  sugges- 
tion, and,  in  recognition  of  their  loyalty  and  fidelity. 
Lieutenant  Cameron  did  not  insist  further.  Instead, 
he  sent  two  members  of  his  expedition  with  the 
funeral  party.  They  were  Dr.  W.  E.  Dillon  and 
Lieutenant  Cecil  Murphy,  and  the  journey  ended  in 
the  middle  of  March.  Dr.  Dillon,  however,  did  not 
reach  the  coast,  for,  unbalanced  by  fever  and  oph- 
thalmia, he  shot  himself,  on  the  way. 

So  the  work  of  the  faithful  five,  the  indomitable 
five,  was  done,  and  for  a  time,  because  of  the  grand 


THE    LAST  MARCH 


277 


emotions  and  heroics,  those  who  had  labored  so  nobly 
without  applause  were  overlooked.  We  have  the 
word  of  Mr.  Horace  Waller,  Livingstone's  friend, 
for  it  that  "no  sooner  did  they  arrive  at  their  journey's 
end  than  they  were  so  far  frowned  out  of  notice,  that 
not  so  much  as  a  passage  to  the  island  [Zanzibar]  was 
offered  them  when  their  burden  was  borne  away." 
For  how  should  the  world  of  zealous  officialdom  know 
of  or  recognize  their  heroic  service  in  the  wilderness  ? 
How  be  aware  of  all  that  self-abnegation,  that 
obedience  to  their  lord,  that  spirit  so  high  that  made 
them  reverence  the  frail  and  aged  body  and  bear  it 
with  untold  hardship  to  themselves,  so  long  and  so 
far  ?  For  now  was  the  day  of  pomp  and  circumstance 
of  hymns  of  praise,  of  regal  dignity. 

England  took  the  body  of  her  son  whose  heart 
was  in  Africa,  and  carried  it  away.  The  one  native 
who  was  articulate,  Jacob  Wainwright,  went  with  the 
body  to  England.  He  was  one  of  those  sent  by 
Stanley  to  the  explorer,  and  he  had  allied  himself 
nobly  enough  with  the  five  who  had  been  Living- 
stone's faithful  attendants  in  that  eight-thousand- 
mile  journey  in  the  wilderness. 

On  Saturday,  April  18,  1874,  the  body  of  David 
Livingstone  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey. 
There  were  pomp  and  parade,  the  ecstasy  of  liturgies, 
the  agony  of  spirit  that  comes  from  roUing  music. 
Greater  honors  could  not  have  been  awarded  a  king. 
All  England  mourned,  thoughtful  men  with  a  tighten- 
ing of  the  heart,  having  in  mind  things  left  undone 
which  ought  to  have  been  done. 


278 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE 


But  somehow,  remembering  all  that  the  life  of  the 
dark  and  silent  heart  meant,  remembering  the  long 
years  of  patient  and  scrupulous  toil,  remembering 
the  struggle  and  the  effort  and  the  hardship,  re- 
membering that  self-effacement  at  the  moment  of 
triumph  and  success,  remembering  his  sympathy 
and  loving  kindness,  and  remembering  that  last 
pilgrimage,  it  seems  to  me  that  a  shadow  would  fall 
on  this  page  if  the  faithful  five  were  left  unnamed. 
For  they  were  the  salt  of  the  earth  to  David  Liv- 
ingstone.   Theirs  were  virile  virtues. 

They  were: 

Susi,  Livingstone's  body  servant,  a  man  of  ardent 
devotion. 

Chuma,  the  Nassick  boy,  a  friend  of  fighting  blood. 
Amoda,  one  of  the  slaves  released  in  fight. 
Gardner,  a  Nassick  boy,  practical  and  conscien- 
tious. 

Halima,  the  wife  of  Amoda,  whose  freedom  Living- 
stone promised  to  secure  when  the  work  was  done. 

These  were  his  servitors,  his  companions,  his 
friends;  these  were  tried  and  well  proven  in  sickness 
and  in  sorrow  and,  at  last,  in  death. 


THE  END 


APPENDIX  I 


A  SHORT  OUTLINE  OF  DAVID  LIVINGSTONE'S  LIFE 

1813    Mar.  19th:  Bom  at  Blantyre  Works,  Lanarkshire,  Scot- 
land. 

1823-1836   Worked  in  a  cotton  mill. 

1838    Accepted  by  London  Missionary  Society. 

1840  Medical  degree  from  Faculty  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons, 

Glasgow. 
Dec.  8th:  Sailed  for  Africa. 

1841  July  31st:  Arrived  at  Dr.  Moffat's  station,  Kuruman. 
1844    Married  and  settled  at  Mabotsa. 

1849    Desert  journey  to  Lake  Ngami. 

1852  At  Cape  Town  with  family. 

1853  May  23d:  At  Linyanti. 

Nov.  iith:  Left  Linyanti  for  the  Atlantic  coast. 

1854  May  31st:  Reached  Atlantic  coast. 
Sept.  20th:  Left  Atlantic  coast. 

1855  Sept.  iith:  Reached  Linyanti. 

Nov.  3d:  Left  Linyanti  for  east  coast. 
Nov.  14th:  Discovered  Victoria  Falls. 
l8t:6.-,^av  20th:  Reached  QuiHmane  on  east  coast. 
Dec  I2th:  Reached  England. 

1857  Missionary  Travels  published. 

Resigned  from  London  Missionary  Society. 

1858  Mar.  loth:  Left  England. 

May  14th:  Reached  mouth  of  Zambesi. 

1859  Apr.  18th:  Discovered  Lake  Shirwa. 
Sept.  i6th:  Discovered  Lake  Nyassa. 

1861  Bishop  Mackenzie  Mission. 

1862  Apr.  27th:  Death  of  Mary  Moffat  Livingstone. 

1864  June  13th:  Reached  Bombay. 
July  loth:  Reached  London. 

1865  Narrative  of  an  Expedition  to  Zambesi  published. 


279 


28o 


APPENDIX  I 


Aug.  15th:  Left  London. 
Sept.:  Reached  Bombay. 

1866  Apr.  4th:  Started  into  interior  from  the  mouth  of  the 

Rovuma.    Reported  dead. 

1867  July  9th:  Young  search  expedition  sailed. 
Nov.  8th:  Discovered  Lake  Moero. 

1868  July  1 8th:  Discovered  Lake  Bang^veolo. 

1869  Livingstone  at  Luamo  River  country. 

1870  Feb.  2nd:  Again  reported  dead. 
Explored  Lualaba. 

1 871  Jan.  6th:  Stanley  reached  Zanzibar. 
Livingstone  at  Mobasilange. 

July  20th:  Livingstone  starts  for  Ujiji. 

Oct.  1 8th:  Meeting  of  Livingstone  and  Stanley. 

Nov.  and  Dec. :  Exploration  of  Lake  Tanganyika. 

1872  Mar.  15th:  Parted  with  Stanley  at  Unyanyembe. 
Aug.  26th:  Left  Unyanyembe  on  last  trip. 

1873  May  1st:  Died  in  Ilala. 

1874  Apr.  i8th:  Buried  in  Westminster  Abbey. 


APPENDIX  II 


A  SHORT  LIST  OF  BOOKS 

By  David  Livingstone: 

Missionary  Travels  and  Researches  in  South  Africa.  1857 
Narrative  of  an  Expedition  to  the  Zambesi  and  Its  Tributaries 

(with  Charles  Livingstone).  1865 
Last  Journals  of  David  Livingstone  in  Central  Africa,  edited 

by  the  Rev.  Horace  Waller.  1874. 
Despatches  to  the  Foreign  Office. 

Blaikie.    Livingstone's  Personal  Life.  1880. 
Hughes.    David  Livingstone.  1906. 

Johnston.    Livingstone  and  the  Exploration  of  Central  Africa. 
1897. 

London  Missionary  Society.    Publications,  from  1840. 
Machlachlan.    David  Livingstone.  1900. 
Royal  Geographical  Society.    Journal  and  Proceedings. 
Stanley.    How  I  Found  Livingstone  iri  Central  Africa.  1872. 
Stanley.    Autobiography.  1909. 

Moffat.    The  Lives  of  Robert  and  Mary  Moffat.  1885. 


281 


APPENDIX  III 


Report  of  Livingstone's  death,  based  on  Musa's  story,  made  to  Lord 
Clarendon,  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  by  Dr.  G.  E.  Seward, 
Consul  at  Zanzibar 

Dated  from  Zanzibar,  December  loth,  1866. 

My  Lord, 

I  send  you  the  saddest  news.  Dr.  Livingstone  in  his  dispatch 
from  Ngomano,  informed  your  Lordship  that  he  stood  "on  the 
threshold  of  the  unexplored."  Yet,  as  if  that  which  should  be- 
tide him  had  already  thrown  its  shadow,  he  added:  "I  have  but 
little  to  say  of  the  future." 

My  Lord,  if  the  report  of  some  fugitives  from  his  party  be  true, 
this  brave  and  good  man  has  "crossed  the  threshold  of  the  un- 
explored"— he  has  confronted  the  future  and  will  never  return. 
He  was  slain,  so  it  is  alleged,  during  a  sudden  and  unprovoked 
encounter  with  those  very  Zulus  of  whom  he  says,  in  his  dispatch, 
that  they  had  laid  waste  the  country  round  about  him,  and  had 
"swept  away  the  food  from  above  and  in  the  ground."  With 
an  escort  reduced  to  twenty,  by  desertion,  deaths,  and  dismissals, 
he  had  traversed,  as  I  believe,  that  terra  incognita  between  the 
confluence  of  the  Loende  and  Rovuma  rivers,  at  Ngomano,  and 
the  eastern  or  northeastern  littoral  of  Lake  Nyassa;  had  crossed 
the  lake  at  some  point  as  yet  unascertained;  had  reached  a  station 
named  Kompoonda  or  Mapoonda,  on  its  western  (probably  its 
northwestern)  shore,  and  was  pushing  west  or  northwest,  into 
dangerous  ground,  when  between  Marenga  and  Mukliosowa  a 
band  of  implacable  savages  stopped  the  way,  a  mixed  horde  of 
Zulus,  or  Mafite  and  Nyassa  folk.  The  Nyassa  folk  were  armed 
with  bow  and  arrow,  the  Zulus  with  the  traditional  shield,  broad- 
bladed  spears,  and  axes.  With  Livingstone  there  were  nine  or 
ten  muskets;  his  Johanna  men  were  resting  with  their  loads  far 
in  the  rear. 

The  Mafite  instantly  came  on  to  fight;  there  was  no  parley,  no 

282 


APPENDIX  III 


283 


avoidance  of  the  combat;  they  came  on  with  a  rush,  with  war 
cries  and  rattling  on  their  shields  their  spears.  As  Livingstone 
and  his  party  raised  their  pieces,  their  onset  was  for  a  moment 
checked,  but  only  for  a  moment.  Livingstone  fired  and  two 
Zulus  were  shot  dead  (his  boys  fired,  too,  but  their  fire  was  harm- 
less); he  was  in  the  act  of  reloading  when  three  Mafite  leaped 
upon  him  through  the  smoke.  There  was  no  resistance — there 
could  be  none — and  one  cruel  axe-cut  from  behind  him  put  him 
out  of  life.  He  fell,  and  when  he  fell,  his  terror-stricken  escort 
fled,  hunted  by  the  Mafite.  One,  at  least,  of  the  fugitives  es- 
caped; and  he,  the  eyewitness,  it  is  who  tells  the  tale — Ali  Musa, 
chief  of  his  escort  of  porters. 

The  party  had  left  the  western  shores  of  Nyassa  about  five  days. 
They  had  started  from  Kompoonda,  on  the  lake's  borders  (they 
left  the  Havildar  of  Sepoys  there  dying  of  dysentery;  Livingstone 
had  dismissed  the  other  Sepoys  of  the  Bombay  21st,  at  Mataka), 
and  had  rested  at  Marenga,  where  Livingstone  was  cautioned 
not  to  advance.  The  next  station  was  Mahlivoora;  they  were 
traversing  a  flat  country,  broken  by  small  hills,  and  abundantly 
wooded. 

Indeed,  the  scene  of  the  tragedy  so  soon  to  be  consummated 
would  appear  to  have  been  an  open  forest  glade.  Livingstone, 
as  usual,  led  the  way,  his  nine  or  ten  unpractised  musketeers  at 
his  heels.  Ali  Musa  had  nearly  come  up  with  them,  having  left 
his  own  Johanna  men  resting  with  their  loads  far  in  the  rear. 
Suddenly  he  heard  Livingstone  warn  the  boys  that  the  Mazitus 
were  coming.  The  boys  in  turn  beckoned  Musa  to  press  for- 
ward.   Musa  saw  the  crowd  here  and  there  between  the  trees. 

He  had  just  gained  the  party  and  sunk  down  behind  a  tree 
to  deliver  his  own  fire  when  his  leader  fell.  Musa  fled  for  his  life 
along  the  path  he  had  come.  Meeting  his  Johanna  men,  who 
threw  down  their  loads,  and  in  a  body  really  passed  Musa,  his 
escape,  and  that  of  his  party,  merges  on  the  marvelous.  How- 
ever, at  sunset,  they,  in  great  fear,  left  their  forest  refuge,  and  got 
back  to  the  place  where  they  hoped  to  find  their  baggage.  It  was 
gone,  and  then,  with  increasing  dread,  they  crept  to  where  the 
slain  traveler  lay. 

Near  him,  in  front,  lay  the  grim  Zulus  who  were  killed  under 
the  expedition.  That  one  blow  had  killed  him  outright,  he  had 
no  other  wound  but  this  terrible  gash;  it  must  have  gone — from 


284 


APPENDIX  III 


their  description — through  the  neck  and  spine  up  to  the  throat 
in  front,  and  it  had  nearly  decapitated  him.  Death  came  merci- 
fully in  its  instant  suddenness,  for  David  Livingstone  was  ever 
ready. 

They  found  him  stripped  of  his  upper  clothing,  the  Mazitus 
had  respected  him  when  dead.  They  dug,  with  some  stakes,  a 
shallow  grave,  and  hid  from  the  starlight  the  stricken  temple  of  a 
grand  spirit — the  body  of  an  apostle,  whose  martyrdom  should 
make  sacred  the  shores  of  that  sea  which  his  labors  made  known 
to  us,  and  which  now,  baptized  with  his  life's  blood,  men  should 
henceforth  know  as  "Lake  Livingstone." 

The  Johanna  men  made  the  most  of  their  way  back  to  Ma- 
poonda,  not  venturing  near  any  village  or  station.  They  lost 
themselves  in  the  jungle,  and  were  fourteen  days  on  their  way. 
At  Kompoonda,  they  witnessed  the  end  of  the  Havildar  of 
Sepoys,  Bombay  21st  Native  Infantry.  He  alone  of  all  the 
Indians  was  faithful;  on  the  threshold  of  this  Consulate  at  Zanzi- 
bar, he  pledged  himself  at  the  moment  of  starting  never  to  fore- 
sake  his  leader — nor  did  he;  to  the  last  he  struggled  on,  worn  with 
dysentery,  but  broke  down  hopelessly  on  the  road  to  Marenga. 
A  day  or  two  later,  and  he  would  have  shared  his  leader's  fate. 

Insubordinate,  lazy,  impracticable,  and  useless,  Livingstone 
had  dismissed  the  other  Sepoys  at  Maraka.  Had  they  been 
faithful  hke  their  Havildar,  I  should  not  have  had  to  inscribe 
a  record  of  this  sad  happening.  Their  unfitness  for  African 
travel  might  have  been  predicated.  At  Kompoonda  the  Jo- 
hanna men  were  deprived  of  their  weapons  by  the  Chief,  who  also 
kept  the  Havildar's.  Here  they  joined  an  Arab  slave  caravan, 
recrossed  the  Nyassa,  and  made  for  Kilwa,  the  great  slave  outlet 
on  the  Zanzibar  coast. 

But  here  again,  and  where  least  expected,  they  encountered  the 
Mafite.  They  had  reached  Keepareygree,  eight  days  southwest 
of  Kilwa,  when  the  appearance  of  a  band  of  the  savages  scattered 
the  caravan.  Abandoning  ivory,  slaves — their  all — the  Arab 
leaders  thought  but  of  saving  their  lives.  The  Johanna  men 
again  made  their  escape,  and  reached  Kilwa,  whence  by  the  kind- 
ness of  the  customs  people  they  were  at  once  sent  on  to  Zanzibar. 
They  arrived  here  on  the  sixth  of  December. 

It  will  be  gratifying  to  many  of  the  true  friends  of  Dr.  Living- 
stone to  learn  that,  when,  on  his  sad  end  being  known,  the 


APPENDIX  III 


285 


British  flag  was  lowered  at  this  Consulate,  the  French,  the 
American,  and  Hanseatic  flags  were  at  once  flown  half-mast  high, 
the  Consuls  paying  a  spontaneous  tribute  to  his  memory — an 
example  shortly  followed  by  all  the  foreign  vessels  in  the  harbor. 
The  Sultan's  flag  was  also  lowered. 

I  must  reserve  other  details  for  a  subsequent  letter;  but  I  may 
state  that  no  papers,  effects,  or  relics  of  Livingstone  are  likely 
to  be  recovered. 

G.  Edward  Seward. 


APPENDIX  IV 


Report  to  Sir  Roderick  Murchison,  President  of  the  Royal  Geo- 
graphical Society,  made  by  Lieutenant  E.  D.  Young,  Commander  of 
the  First  Livingstone  Search  Expedition. 

[December,  1867] 

Sir, 

I  have  the  honor  to  lay  before  you  a  brief  outline  of  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  expedition  under  my  command,  sent  out  to 
Africa  by  the  Royal  Geographical  Society,  for  the  purpose  of 
ascertaining  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  the  reported  death  of  Dr. 
Livingstone.  I  am  happy  to  inform  you  that  our  eflForts  have 
been  crowned  with  success,  and  I  have  satisfactory  evidence  that 
Dr.  Livingstone  was  not  murdered  by  the  Mazitu,  nor  by  any 
other  tribe,  at  the  place  named  by  the  Johanna  men,  but  had 
gone  on  in  safety  far  beyond.  I  have  also  satisfactory  evidence 
that  the  Johanna  men  deserted  shortly  after  leaving  Marenga, 
returning  by  the  same  route  as  they  had  gone. 

But  I  must  first  begin  the  narrative  from  the  time  of  our  land- 
ing at  the  mouth  of  the  Zambesi.  Immediately  upon  landing,  I 
succeeded  in  getting  a  Negro  crew  to  take  the  boats  up  as  far  as 
Shupanga,  where  I  arrived  on  the  2d  of  August.  I  at  once  en- 
gaged a  fresh  crew  to  go  on  to  Chibisa,  and  the  next  day  started 
for  Senna.  Arrived  there  on  the  6th;  found  the  Portuguese 
authorities  very  obliging;  made  what  arrangements  were  thought 
necessary,  and  proceeded  on  the  next  day.  I  learned  from  the 
Portuguese  that  the  Mazitu  were  in  full  force  on  the  Shire,  and 
were  threatening  Chibisa,  so  I  arranged  with  the  authorities  at 
Senna  to  send  on  to  me  at  Chibisa  (should  I  require  them)  100 
men,  fearing,  as  the  Mazitu  were  there,  I  should  not  be  able  to 
get  the  Makololo  to  accompany  me. 

We  arrived  at  Chibisa  on  the  17th,  and  found  that  the  reports 
about  the  Mazitu  having  been  there  were  quite  true,  and  that 

286 


APPENDIX  IV 


287 


they  had  been  down  in  force  to  the  left  bank,  robbing  and  burn- 
ing the  houses,  murdering  some  of  the  people  they  caught,  and 
taking  others  prisoners.  The  Makololo  put  off  the  canoes  from 
the  opposite  bank  and  shot  three  of  them.  Of  course,!  was  quite 
unprepared  to  meet  the  Mazitu  in  this  part  of  the  country. 

The  Makololo,  as  well  as  the  people  who  were  of  the  old  mission 
party,  received  us  gladly.  I  requested  the  Makololo  to  attend 
the  next  morning,  which  they  did,  when  I  acquainted  them  of 
the  object  of  my  mission.  They  agreed  to  accompany  me  on 
certain  conditions,  which  I  agreed  to.  One  was  that  I  should 
leave  some  ammunition  behind  with  those  that  remained,  so  that 
should  the  Mazitu  attempt  to  cross  the  river  below  the  Cataracts 
they  would  be  well  able  to  encounter  them.  After  arrangements 
had  been  completed,  we  started  on  the  19th  for  the  Cataracts; 
arrived  the  same  day,  and  at  once  began  taking  the  boat  to 
pieces.  Hitherto  all  had  gone  on  well,  but  no  sooner  had  we  got 
the  boat  to  pieces,  and  everything  was  ready  for  the  journey 
overland,  than  fresh  reports  about  the  Mazitu  reached  the 
Makololo,  which  very  much  daunted  them,  and  had  also  a 
tendency  to  lower  our  spirits,  for  without  their  help  we  could  do 
nothing,  as  it  was  not  only  their  help  we  required,  but  also  that 
of  their  people,  they  being  the  chiefs  of  the  country  round  about. 
After  a  good  deal  of  persuasion,  the  whole  affair  was  settled  to 
our  satisfaction,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  23d  the  Makololo 
appeared  in  force  with  about  150  men. 

We  started  next  morning  with  the  boat,  provisions,  luggage, 
etc.,  making  in  all  180  loads.  The  men  worked  well,  and  we 
arrived  with  everything  in  good  order  at  Pomfunda,  above  the 
Cataracts,  in  four  and  a  half  days.  The  heat  during  the  journey 
was  excessive,  even  for  Africa.  We  at  once  commenced  rebuild- 
ing the  boat,  and  everything  appeared  to  be  going  on  well  when 
fresh  reports  reached  us  about  the  Mazitu.  We  were  visited  by 
some  of  the  Ajawa  chiefs  who  had  been  driven  out  of  their  own 
country  and  were  obliged  to  cross  the  river  to  save  themselves 
from  being  murdered.  There  was  an  encampment  close  by  the 
place  where  we  were  building  the  boat,  of  about  200  Ajawas,  the 
sole  survivors  of  the  once  powerful  people  under  the  chief  Joey. 

Every  day  fresh  reports  reached  us,  and  the  Makololo  wanted 
to  return  home,  which  of  course  I  could  not  consent  to.  At  this 
place  we  first  heard  from  a  native  of  a  white  man  having  passed 


288 


APPENDIX  IV 


through  Maponda  at  the  south  end  of  Lake  Nyassa.  He  stated 
that  he  had  seen  him,  and  gave  a  description  of  his  dress,  etc. 

Launched  the  boat  on  the  30th,  and  started  up  the  river  next 
morning.  The  Makololo  not  working  well,  and  making  every 
excuse,  not  being  well,  etc.,  thinking  perhaps  we  would  turn  back. 
They  stated  that  the  risk  was  too  great,  that  there  was  little 
chance  of  our  ever  returning,  but  as  they  had  gone  so  far  they 
would  go  on  and  die  with  us;  of  course  all  was  agreed  to.  As  we 
proceeded  we  found  vast  numbers  of  Ajawas  and  Machinkas  on 
the  left  bank,  living  in  temporary  huts,  who  had  retreated  before 
the  overwhelming  numbers  of  Mazitu.  Reached  the  small  lake 
Pamalombe  on  the  evening  of  the  5th  of  September. 

During  our  passage  up  the  river  heard  several  reports  of  a 
white  man  who  twelve  months  before  had  stopped  at  Maponda 
for  some  time,  having  crossed  from  the  opposite  side,  and  after 
resting  some  time  he  had  gone  on  in  a  westerly  direction.  I  now 
felt  almost  convinced  that  it  must  have  been  Livingstone,  but  I 
almost  feared  to  stop  there,  for  I  felt  certain  had  the  Makololo 
been  satisfied  that  it  was  him  they  would  have  gone  no  further; 
for  my  agreement  with  them  was  that,  as  soon  as  we  had  satis- 
factory evidence  that  the  Doctor  had  gone  on  in  safety,  or  that 
he  had  been  killed  in  the  way  described  by  the  Johanna  men, 
I  would  return  with  them  immediately.  But  now,  as  it  appeared 
he  had  passed  over  the  south  end  of  Nyassa  instead  of  the  north, 
I  wanted  to  find  out  where  he  had  first  struck  the  lake.  The 
Makololo  stated  that  they  were  certain  that  if  a  white  man  had 
been  killed,  or  had  died,  within  a  month's  journey  of  where  we 
were,  we  should  certainly  have  heard  of  it  before  we  got  thus  far. 

The  next  morning  crossed  the  Pamalombe,  but  could  not  find  a 
passage  in  to  Maponda,  owing  to  the  quantity  of  rushes  and 
grass,  and  it  blowing  very  hard  at  the  time  we  made  for  the  river. 
Here  again  we  met  great  numbers  of  natives,  who  appeared  very 
hostile.  They  lined  the  bank  with  their  guns  and  demanded  that 
we  should  come  into  them.  The  Makololo  appeared  very  much 
afraid,  so  I  laid  the  boat  to,  to  await  the  approach  of  two  armed 
canoes  that  had  shoved  off  from  the  shore.  I  soon  made  matters 
right  with  them,  and  shortly  afterwards  entered  Lake  Nyassa, 
and  slept  the  first  night  on  the  Rock  Boasuam. 

Started  the  next  morning  with  a  fine  breeze  from  the  east  side 
ofthe  lake,  steering  as  near  as  possible  for  the  Arab  crossing  place, 


APPENDIX  IV 


289 


as  laid  down  by  Livingstone.  We  had  not  run  more  than  two 
hours  before  a  heavy  gale  began  to  blow,  and  for  three  hours  we 
had  to  run  along  the  coast  to  try  and  find  shelter,  but  the  rocks 
and  breakers  met  us  at  every  hand.  This  proved  the  finishing 
stroke  to  the  Makololos'  courage,  who  all  lay  down  at  the  bottom 
of  the  boat  to  die,  and  although  the  boat  was  constantly  shipping 
heavy  seas,  they  refused  to  bale  out  the  water.  The  steel  boat 
behaved  well,  but  was  far  too  deep  for  the  stormy  Lake  Nyassa. 
At  length,  after  three  hours'  weary  watching,  we  succeeded  in 
finding  a  sheltered  spot  where  we  stopped  to  dry  our  clothes. 
Only  one  native  appeared  at  this  place,  who  when  he  saw  us  first 
was  much  frightened;  but  as  soon  as  we  stated  we  were  English, 
he  willingly  came  toward  us.  He  told  us  an  Englishman  had 
passed  through  his  village  a  year  ago,  and  that  he  had  come  from 
the  Arab  settlement  and  had  gone  south  to  Maponda.  Started 
again  for  the  former  place,  but  found  the  distance  too  great  to 
reach  before  dark;  put  into  a  small  sandy  bay,  where  we  found 
some  natives  fishing. 

I  must  here  remark  that  at  any  place,  on  first  visiting  it,  no  one 
was  allowed  to  get  out  of  the  boat,  except  myself,  Mr.  Faulkner, 
and  the  interpreter.  I  soon  got  into  conversation  with  these 
men,  when  they  spoke  of  a  white  man  who  had  been  there,  with- 
out being  asked.  They  stated  that  he  had  first  made  that  place 
coming  from  Makata,  had  stopped  nine  or  ten  days  to  rest,  and 
then  went  north  to  the  Arab  settlement  to  try  and  get  them 
to  carry  him  and  his  party  across  the  lake,  but  after  waiting 
there  some  time  he  returned,  making  his  way  south  for  Makata. 
They  described  his  dress,  what  luggage  he  had,  imitated  him 
taking  sights,  and  sleeping  under  a  mosquito  curtain,  and  stated 
that  he  had  a  dog  with  him  named  Chetane.  They  said  that  the 
headman  of  the  carriers  was  named  Musa;  two  of  the  boys  spoke 
the  Ajawa  and  Mananja  language,  and  were  named  Juma  and 
Wako.  They  told  us  what  barter  goods  he  traded  with;  on  being 
shown  an  album  with  numbers  of  likenesses,  they  at  once  recog- 
nized the  one  of  Livingstone.  That  there  were  nine  of  Musa's 
countrymen  with  him,  who  did  not  speak  either  the  Ajawa  or 
Mananja  language.  He  did  not  buy  slaves  or  ivory;  he  had 
come  to  see  the  country.  Besides  other  numerous  things  that  left 
no  doubt  in  my  mind  that  it  was  Livingstone. 

Next  day  we  arrived  at  the  Arab  settlement,  where  w?  were 


290 


APPENDIX  IV 


received  kindly,  and  found  all  that  I  heard  before  was  correct. 
Livingstone  waited  at  this  place  nine  or  ten  days  for  the  Arab 
boat  which  did  not  arrive,  so  he  started  south  again,  and  they 
traced  him  as  far  as  Maponda.  I  visited  the  house  Livingstone 
lived  in  during  his  stay,  and  I  purchased  a  few  articles  (all  Eng- 
lish make)  that  he  had  traded  with,  such  as  small  round  looking 
glasses,  a  knife,  razor,  iron  spoons,  etc.  Of  course  most  of  the 
calicoes  and  so  forth  were  already  worn  out,  but  the  chief  still 
possessed  an  Indian  manufactured  scarf  that  Livingstone  had 
presented  to  him  on  leaving.  I  sent  two  of  the  most  trustworthy 
Makololo  with  my  ever  faithful  interpreter  (whom  I  brought 
from  the  Cape)  on  the  road  to  Makata  to  see  if  that  was  the  road 
he  had  come,  while  we  again  went  south,  making  short  marches 
inland,  to  try  to  find  the  route  the  Johanna  men  took  in  going 
back,  as  they  had  not  visited  this  place  or  the  last.  We  obtained 
other  trifling  articles  in  the  shape  of  barter  goods,  and  while 
waiting  for  the  return  of  the  Makololo  obtained  from  a  chief 
further  south  an  English  Common  Prayer  book,  which  he  stated 
had  been  left  behind  by  the  Englishman  in  the  house  he  had  slept 
at. 

On  the  13th  the  searching  party  returned,  having  gone  two 
days'  march  on  the  road  to  Makata.  Livingstone  had  come 
that  way.  They  brought  back  some  glasses,  fish  hooks,  etc., 
that  he  had  traded  with.  They  would  have  gone  further,  but 
were  ill  treated  by  some  of  the  natives  and  driven  back:  their 
reason  for  so  doing,  they  said,  was  that  the  Englishman  had 
brought  fighting  into  the  country,  for  the  Mazitu  had  been  killing 
their  people  ever  since  he  left. 

Sept.  I4lh.  Started  for  the  opposite  side  of  the  lake,  made 
for  Chinsamba's.  Although  we  started  with  little  or  no  wind,  it 
again  blew  a  gale  before  we  reached  the  opposite  shore.  We 
found  that  Chinsamba  had  been  killed  some  time  since,  and 
nothing  remained  of  his  village.  Skeletons  now  met  our  eyes  in 
great  numbers,  whenever  we  landed  along  this  side.  Saw  several 
natives  the  first  day,  both  Ajawa  and  Mananja;  and  those  who 
had  not  seen  the  white  man  further  south  had  heard  of  him,  but 
in  not  a  single  instance  was  he  spoken  of  as  being  dead.  I  wished 
to  learn  by  coming  over  this  side,  in  what  direction  he  had  gone 
after  leaving  Maponda.  We  had  not  crossed  long  when  we  saw 
a  man  who  had  helped  to  carry  the  Englishman's  luggage  for  two 


APPENDIX  IV 


291 


days.  He  described  him  as  before.  This  man  had  been  Hving 
inland  some  distance,  but  had  been  driven  out  by  the  Ajawa. 
He  pointed  in  a  northwesterly  direction,  and  stated  it  was  five 
days'  journey  off,  which,  of  course,  would  be  very  much  more 
from  Marenga. 

Our  progress  south  was  slow,  owing  to  the  heavy  gales  of  wind. 
On  our  way  we  met  several  who  had  seen  the  Englishman,  and 
more  than  one  had  helped  to  carry  his  luggage  from  village  to 
village,  and  there  was  not  in  all  their  reports  the  slightest  varia- 
tion. They  were  not  all  from  the  same  place,  but  they  all  main- 
tained that  he  had  gone  on  in  a  northwesterly  direction  towards 
the  Loangwa.  These  natives  were  full  of  complaints  about  their 
neighbors,  and  would  have  been  only  too  ready  to  inform  against 
each  other  if  Livingstone  had  come  to  an  untimely  end  at  either 
of  their  hands,  and  they  all  maintained  that  the  Mazitu  had 
been  in  that  part  of  the  country. 

Sept.  igth.  Reached  Marenga.  Seeing  the  boat  approach 
the  shore  they  lined  the  beach  with  their  guns,  etc.,  but,  as  soon 
as  we  told  them  we  were  English,  they  laid  their  arms  down  and 
welcomed  us.  I  at  once  asked  to  see  Marenga,  when  I  was  con- 
ducted up  to  his  house  by  one  of  his  wives.  Marenga  rushed  to- 
wards me,  and,  seizing  me  by  the  hand,  shook  it  heartily,  saying, 
"Where  have  you  come  from  and  where  is  your  brother  that  was 
here  last  year?"  and  as  soon  as  I  told  him  I  had  come  to  follow 
him,  he  began  and  told  me  all  he  knew  of  him.  He  said  he  had 
come  there  from  Maponda,  had  stopped  there  two  days;  he  was 
very  kind  to  him,  making  him  presents,  etc.,  and  he  in  return 
gave  him  food  that  he  required.  Livingstone  gave  him  medicine 
which  was  done  up  in  doses;  the  papers  he  used  formed  part  of  a 
"Nautical  Almanack"  for  the  year  1866.  He  lent  Livingstone 
four  canoes  to  take  himself  and  luggage  across  the  marsh,  while 
the  Johanna  carried  the  remainder  round.  He  had  seen  him 
before;  he  said  he  saw  him  when  he  was  up  here  with  a  boat  a 
long  time  ago.  He  traced  him  a  month's  journey  off,  giving  the 
names  of  the  places  in  the  same  order  I  had  previously  heard.  He 
was  quite  willing  to  give  me  any  guides  to  go  to  Maksuro,  or 
where  it  once  was;  but  he  stated,  as  I  had  previously  heard,  that 
Maksuro  had  been  driven  out  and  killed  by  the  Ajawa,  and  his 
people  almost  annihilated;  as  also  had  Coomo  two  days'  journey 
beyond.  Marenga  stated  that  the  Johanna  men  returned  after 


292 


APPENDIX  IV 


being  absent  two  days.  They  gave  as  their  reason  for  returning 
that  they  had  agreed  with  Livingstone  to  take  his  goods  as  far 
only  as  they  Hked.  The  headman  stated  that  he  had  been  in  that 
direction  before  with  him,  and  had  met  the  Mazitu,  and  that 
they  were  going  no  further.  To  prove  their  independence  they 
passed  themselves  off  as  Arabs.  Marenga  gave  them  food,  and 
they  slept  there  one  night  and  then  set  out  for  Maponda. 

Marenga  is  a  Babisa,  and  rules  over  a  populous  district;  he 
made  us  a  present  of  a  bullock  and  as  much  native  food  for  our 
crew  as  we  required,  and  he  invited  us  to  remain  a  long  time. 
He  had  a  great  number  of  wives — I  and  Mr.  Faulkner  being  in- 
troduced to  forty,  who  were  all  sitting  round  him. 

Having  satisfied  myself  thus  far,  I  asked  him  if  he  thought 
it  possible  that  Livingstone  could  have  died  a  month's  journey 
off,  and  he  not  know  it?  He  at  once  said  no,  and  had  he  died 
three  months  off  he  should  have  heard  of  it;  but  as  soon  as  I  told 
him  I  had  heard  that  the  Mazitu  had  killed  him  not  far  distant, 
he  laughed,  and  said  he  told  me  he  was  going  the  way  to  avoid 
them,  and  that  the  Mazitu  had  never  been  in  that  part  of  the 
country  described  by  the  Johanna  men. 

Marenga  then  sent  for  a  man  who  had  gone  five  days'  journey 
with  him,  and  when  he  returned  the  Johanna  men  had  gone  back. 
I  had  previously  heard  the  same  account  from  the  same  man. 

The  Makololo  now  got  very  impatient  to  return  home,  and 
nothing  was  talked  of  day  or  night  but  the  Mazitu.  They  stated 
that  they  had  fulfilled  their  engagement,  but  I  very  much  wished 
to  try  to  get  to  the  north  end  of  the  lake.  But  they  would  not 
listen  to  it.  No  inducement  I  could  offer  would  persuade  them  to 
go;  so  there  was  no  alternative  but  to  go  round  to  Maponda,  get 
what  information  I  could  and  return. 

Marenga  was  full  of  complaints  about  his  neighbors,  and  what 
he  wished  for  more  than  anything  else  was  medicine  for  his  guns, 
so  that  if  the  Ajawas  came  to  fight  him  his  shot  would  kill  some- 
one every  time  they  fired.  We,  being  satisfied  that  Livingstone 
had  gone  on  in  safety,  started  on  the  20th  for  Maponda,  calling 
at  the  several  places  along  the  coast  to  gain  what  information  I 
could;  but  all  I  obtained  only  confirmed  what  I  had  previously 
heard. 

Arrived  at  Maponda  on  the  25th.  The  chief  himself  was  not 
at  home,  having  gone  on  a  trading  expedition,  leaving  his  mother 


APPENDIX  IV 


to  act  during  his  absence.  Immediately  on  arrival  I  sent  a 
messenger  to  acquaint  her  of  arrival  and  my  wish  to  see  her.  She 
soon  came,  with  a  train  of  followers,  bringing  us  presents  of 
native  food  and  beer.  She  stated  that  an  Englishman  had  been 
there  a  year  before,  had  stopped  three  weeks  to  rest  his  party, 
and  then  left  for  Marenga,  stopped  there  a  day  or  two,  and  then 
left  to  go  to  the  Loangwa,  calling  at  Maksura,  Coomo,  etc.  One 
of  the  boys  was  left  behind  here,  being  unable  to  travel,  having 
very  bad  feet  and  legs,  but  had  now  quite  recovered  and  gone  with 
Maponda.  She  stated  that  the  Englishman  had  left  a  paper 
with  him,  but  that  he  had  taken  it  vnth  him  on  the  journey. 
She  brought  some  books  belonging  to  him,  one  of  which  had  his 
name  on  ("Wakitane,  from  Dr.  Wilson,  Dec.  1864,"  etc.),  which 
she  allowed  me  to  take.  The  Johanna  men  returned  this  way, 
stopped  one  day,  and  proceeded  on.  She  swore,  in  the  presence 
of  us  all,  that  Maponda  did  not  take  away  their  guns,  neither  did 
any  of  the  party  die  there.  She  stated  that  the  Englishman  was 
great  friends  with  her  son,  and  that  if  anyone  had  molested  him 
(even  Marenga,  as  strong  as  he  was)  he  would  have  gone  to  war 
with  him.  The  old  lady  laughed  at  the  idea  of  Livingstone  hav- 
ing been  killed  by  the  Mazitu.  Mr.  Faulkner  questioned  her 
regarding  the  Havildar.  She  gave  a  description  of  a  man  with 
straight  black  hair,  with  the  top  of  his  head  shaved,  etc.  Maren- 
ga also  told  us  the  same.  Mr.  Faulkner  states  it  answers  the 
description  of  the  Indian  very  well.  Marenga  also  told  us  the 
same,  and  I  felt  convinced  had  he  died  there  we  would  have  heard 
it  from  some  of  the  numbers  I  questioned  on  the  subject. 

The  Makololo  now  told  me  that  if  I  intended  going  into  the 
lake  again,  they  were  not  going  with  me;  and,  being  entirely 
dependent  on  these  men,  there  was  no  alternative  but  to  return 
and  to  get  their  aid  in  carrying  the  boat  back.  So,  having  got 
all  the  news  I  could  at  Maponda,  I  decided  on  going  to  Makata; 
but  although  I  offered  a  large  amount  to  a  guide,  no  one  would 
attempt  to  cross  the  river.  They  stated  that  Makata  had  taken 
to  the  mountains  for  fear  of  the  Mazitu,  and  they  were  afraid 
of  being  cut  off. 

Started  for  the  Cataracts  on  the  27th.  Found  the  same  state 
of  things  along  the  river  as  on  coming  up.  Arrived  at  the  Cata- 
racts on  the  2d  of  October,  and  commenced  taking  the  boat  to 
pieces.    Meanwhile  we  heard  from  Chibisa  that  the  road  was 


294 


APPENDIX  IV 


clear,  and  that  the  Mazitu  made  Chore,  not  far  from  the  lower 
Shire,  their  headquarters. 

Oct.  8th.  Started  for  Chibisa  with  the  boat,  luggage,  etc., 
where  we  arrived  on  the  12th.  We  found  the  boats  safe,  and  the 
men  left  with  them  in  very  fair  health.  Again  built  the  steel 
boat,  and  while  there  repaired  the  graves  of  the  late  missionaries 
who  died  there. 

22d. — Started  from  Chibisa. 

26th. — Arrived  at  the  Ruo,  stopped  and  repaired  the  grave  of 
the  late  Bishop  Mackenzie.  Arrived  at  the  Kongone  on  the  ilth 
of  November,  but  on  our  way  down  we  visited  Senna. 

H.  M.  S.  Racoon  arrived  on  the  2d  of  December. 

Arrived  at  the  Cape  on  the  evening  of  the  17th. 

Embarked  on  board  the  mail  steamer  on  the  19th. 

In  conclusion,  I  must  again  state  that  this  is  but  a  brief  out- 
line of  our  proceedings.  I  should  have  liked  to  have  done  more 
by  going  to  the  north  end  of  the  lake,  but  was  prevented  by 
circumstances  unforseen  when  I  left  England;  for,  had  the  Mazitu 
not  threatened  Chibisa,  I  should  have  had  little  difficulty  in 
getting  the  Makololo  to  accompany  me.  Under  the  circum- 
stances, I  hope  that  what  has  been  done  will  meet  with  your 
approval,  as  well  as  that  of  the  Royal  Geographical  Society. 

I  have  the  honor  to  be^  Sir,  your  very  obedient  servant, 

E.  D.  Young. 


INDEX 


A 

Aborigines,  the,  are  noted  for  fairness 
and  honesty,  103-104;  but  are  callous 
to  the  enormity  of  crime  of  destroying 
human  hfe.  104. 

Africa,  drawing  the  map  of,  213  ff.; 
a  sketch  of,  showing  routes  travelled 
by  Livingstone,  214. 

Ajawa,  the,  versus,  the  Manganja,  195. 

Ancient  geography,  Livingstone  specu- 
lates on,  as  if  he  would  attempt  to 
cotirdinate  facts  with  Scriptural  his- 
tory, 269-701 

Asthmatic,  the,  at  Tette  on  her  last  trip, 
191.    (See  o/so  Ma  Robert.) 

Astronomer  Royal,  Livingstone's  report 
to  the,  127. 

Atlantic  Coast,  journey  to,  from  Lin- 
yanti,  115. 


B 

Bakatla,  the,  a  pleasant  and  likable 
folk,  41. 

Baker  deplores  easy  blood-letting  by 

native  people  otherwise  pleasant,  1C6. 
Bakwain  country,  Livingstone  explores 

the,  25,  26. 
Balaklava,  news  of  the  battle  of,  reaches 

the  explorer,  129. 
Baldwin,  Mr.,  a  Natal  Englishman,  is 

held  in  captivity  by  Mashotlane,  an 

old-time  warrior,  184. 
Bangweolo,    Lake,    249.    (See  also 

Bemba.) 

Barbarism  of  Europeans  in  Africa 
makes  Livingstone  shiver  in  his  soul, 
180. 

Barth,  Dr.,  Livingstone  recalls  the  work 
of,  162. 

Bayeiye  natives,  Livingstone  expedition 
runs  into,  64. 

Bemba,  or  Bangweolo,  a  great  lake, 
Livingstone  is  within  ten  days'  march 
of,  when  recalled,  203. 

Bennett,  James  Gordon,  biographical 
data,  235-36;  finances  Search  Expe- 
dition to  find  Livingstone,  237;  his 
instructions  to  StaiJey,  238. 

Bechuama  country,  the  explorer  de- 
scribes characteristics  of  natives  of, 
133. 


Birmingham  accords  Livingstone  highest 
honors,  165. 

Blood  brotherhood,  description  of,  135. 

Boers,  enmity  of,  incurred  by  Living- 
stone, 51 ;  raid  Sechele  and  his  tribe, 
53;  destroy  Livingstone's  household 
effects  and  library,  53;  Livingstone 
accused  of  designs  against,  82. 

Bombay,  India.  (See  under  Lady 
Nyassa.) 

Bonga,  or  Tigercat,  Chief,  murders  six 
of  Livingstone's  Makololo  friends,  178. 

Bosman  deplores  easy  blood-letting  by 
native  people  otherwise  pleasant,  105. 

Bourbon,  French  island  of,  slaves 
shipped  to,  174. 

British  Association  for  the  Advance- 
ment of  Science,  Livingstone  adduces 
facts  before  a  meeting  of  the,  168. 

Bruce,  James,  Livingstone  recalls  the 
work  of,  162. 

Buhr,  Chief,  Livingstone  visits,  and  de- 
clares that  he  can  make  rain,  31. 

Burial  of  Livingstone's  remains  in  Ilala, 
275;  in  Westminster  Abbey,  277. 

Burrup,  Mr.,  repeats  from  memory 
parts  of  service  for  Burial  of  the 
Dead  at  funeral  of  Bishop  Mackenzie, 
199;  exhausted  by  illness,  conveyed 
by  the  Makololo  to  his  countrymen 
at  Magomero,  199. 

Burton,  R.  F.,  says  African's  only  fear, 
after  committing  murder,  is  that  of 
being  haimted  by  the  ghost  of  the 
dead,  104-05. 

C 

Caffre  war,  the,  comments  on,  (a)  by 
Gov.  Genl.  Cathcart,  (*)  by  Living- 
stone, 76-77. 

Cambridge  University  gives  degree  to 
Livingstone,  165. 

Cameron,  Lieut.,  the  first  Englishman  to 
hear  of  the  death  of  Livingstone,  276. 

Capetown,  Livingstone  heads  for,  after 
discovering  the  Zambesi,  76;  sermon 
preached  at,  by  Livingstone  arouses 
prejudice  against  him,  80. 

Carpenter,  J.  E^tlin,  eulogizes  Sikh 
Guru  teaching,  103,  104. 

Cecil,  Mr.,  Livingstone's  tutor,  letter  to, 
27,  28. 


296  I  N 

Central  Africa,  Livingstone's  data  con- 
struct the  map  of,  162. 

Chaka  kills  his  ally,  Godongwana,  13; 
is  assassinated  by  Dingaan,  13. 

Chambeze,  the  river,  228. 

Chitambo's  village,  on  the  Lulinala,  in 
Ilala,  Livingstone  expires  in,  272. 

Chobe,  crossing  of  the,  description  of, 
92. 

Clarendon,  Lord  of  the  Admiralty,  in- 
vites Livingstone  to  state  his  wishes 
and  to  consider  them  granted,  165. 

Cochrane,  Capt.  the  Hon.  Ernest, 
commanding  H.  M.  S.  Pelrel,  on  the 
West  Coast  of  Africa,  reports  the 
murder  of  Livingstone,  240. 

Colonization,  a  system  of,  among  the 
honest  poor,  Livingstone  writes  on, 
180. 

Cook,  Capt.,  cited  in  praise  of  aborig- 
ines, 103. 

Court  of  law,  native,  description  of  a, 
102-03. 

D 

Daily  News,  a  writer  in  the,  interprets 

Livingstone  and  his  mission,  163. 

Dalton,  Colonel,  cited  in  praise  of  ab- 
origines, 104. 

Darwin,  quoted,  89. 

Death  of  Livingstone,  falsely  reported 
by  Musa,  is  flashed  all  over  the  world, 
220;  at  Chitambo's  village,  on  the 
Luhnala,  273. 

Dingaan,  assassinates  Chaka,  13. 

Distances,  relative,  110,  206-07. 

Doctors,  native,  permitted  to  try  their 
arts  on  Livingstone,  87. 

Doherty,  Richard,  forwards  to  the 
Times  a  letter  received  from  Capt. 
Cochrane,  commanding  H.  M.  S. 
Petrel,  reporting  the  murder  of  Liv- 
ingstone, 240. 

E 

Edinburgh  accords  Livingstone  highest 

honors,  165. 
Embalming  of  Livingstone's  body,  in 

Ilala,  275. 
Exploration  0}  Southeast  Africa,  cited, 

145. 

F 

Fever,  Livingstone  has  his  first  attack  of , 
at  Linyanti,  May  31.  1853,  108; 
treatment  by  tribal  doctor,  109. 

Fighting  the  slave  trade,  168  ff . 

Forerunner,  British  cruiser,  Livingstone 
declines  offer  of  passage  to  England 
on  the,  126;  strikes  a  sunken  rock  and 
loses  mails  and  fourteen  lives,  128. 

Frolic,  Livingstone  embarks  on  the,  for 
England,  155. 

Fimeral  obsequies,  strange,  described  by 
the  explorer,  13&-36. 


E  X 


G 

Gabriel,  Mr.,  Commissioner  for  thesup- 

Eression  of  the  slave  trade,  welcomes 
ivingstone  at  Locinda,  125. 
Garden  Island,  144;  Sir  Richard  Glyn 

visits,  144  (Joolnole). 
George,  Livingstone  sails  on  the,  for 

Algoa  Bay,  16. 
Godongwana,  "The  Wanderer,"  forms 
a  celibate  army,  13;  is  killed  by  his 
ally,  Chaka,  13. 
Gorgon,  the,  English  cruiser,  arrives  at 

the  Great  Luabo,  198. 
Great  Britain  acclaims  the  explorer- 
missionary  on  his  return,  161. 
Great  Luabo,  the,  reached,  198. 


H 

Hall,  records  admiration  of  the  honesty 
and  fairness  of  native  Labradorians, 
103. 

Hamilton,  freedom  of  the  city  of,  given 

to  Livingstone,  165. 
Hay,  Gov.  Genl.,  Livingstone  the  guest 

of,  at  Mauritius,  159. 
Hodgson,  Mr.,  of  the  Asiatic  Society, 

praises  aborigines,  104. 
Homed  men,  "a  strange  race  of,"  179. 
How  I  found  Livingstone,  conversation 

between  Stanley  and  James  Gordon 

Bennett  in,  237. 

I 

Inoculation  practised  by  Bakwains  be- 
fore their  intercourse  with  mission- 
aries, 87. 

K 

Kalahari  desert,  the,  declared  impass- 
able, 36;  Livingstone  decides  to  cross, 
54;  with  wife  and  three  children  and 
retinue,  starts  into,  55-56;  suffering 
in  the,  61. 

Kamolondo,  I-ake,  249. 

Kirk,  Dr.  John,  botanist,  accompanies 
Livingstone  on  his  return  to  Africa  on 
new  pilgrimage,  166;  attends  Mrs. 
Livingstone  in  her  last  illness,  200. 

Kolff ,  Dr.,  cited  in  praise  of  aborigines, 
104. 

Kolobeng,  starting  point  of  expedition 
to  cross  Kalah^i  desert,  55;  return 
to,  from  desert,  61. 

Kongone  branch  of  the  Zambesi  navi- 
gated, 176-77. 

Krieger,  Commandant,  Livingstone 
makes  journeys  of  300  miles  on  foot 
to  interview,  51. 

Kuruman,  Livingstone  leaves  Cape- 
town en  route  to  Moffat  station  at, 
22;  arrives,  23;  route  from,  to  Ma- 
botsa,  described,  45-46;  journey  from, 
to  Linyanti,  takes  almost  a  year,  83. 


I  N 


Lacerda,  Mons.,  employed  to  extinguish 
facts  adduced  by  Livingstone  in  re- 
gard to  Portuguese  slave-trading,  168. 

"Lacustrine  river,"  an  "enormous," 
249. 

Lady  Nyassa,  the,  designed  for  lake 
service,  arrives  in  24  sections,  on  the 
cruiser  Gorgon,  at  the  Great  Luabo, 
198;  in  tow,  starts  for  Nyassa,  202; 
is  navigated  by  Livingstone  to  Bom- 
bay, India,  206-07;  is  sold,  208. 

Lake  Regions  of  Central  Africa,  R.  F. 
Burton,  in,  testifies  to  natives'  dis- 
regard of  destroying  human  life, 
104. 

Last  march,  the,  258  ff. 

Lechulatebe,  Chief,  asks  for,  and  is 

£ resented  with,  Livingstone's  gun,  65. 
eeds   accords  Livingstone  highest 
honors,  165. 
Lepoloh,  Livingstone  spends  half  year 
at,  27. 

Libonti,  return  to,  greeted  with  wild 

demonstrations  of  joy,  136. 
Liemba,  Lake,  the  southern  extremity 

of  Lake  Tanganyika,  227. 
Lincoln,  Lake.  250. 

Linyanti,  79  ft.; Livingstone  reaches  on 
May  23,  1853.  83;  reception  at,  93  £f.; 
journey  from,  to  the  Atlantic  coast, 
115;  pilgrimage  of  Second  Expedition 
to.  Chiles  Livingstone's  romantic 
account  of,  181  ff. 

Liverpool  accords  Livingstone  highest 
honors,  165. 

Livingstone,  Charles,  accompanies  the 
explorer  on  his  return  to  Africa,  on 
new  pilgrimage,  166. 

Livingstone,  Mrs.,  acts  as  nurse,  65; 
with  children,  sails  for  England  on 
April  23,  1852,  78;  meets  the  explorer 
on  his  arrival  at  Southampton,  160; 
illness  and  death  of,  April  27,  1862, 
200. 

"Livingstone  Pills,"  specific  for  fever, 
187. 

Livingstone  Testimonial  Fund  sug- 
gested at  the  Mansion  House,  162. 

Loanda,  arrival  at,  125;  Livingstone's 
convalescence  at,  127;  government 
and  merchants  at,  actively  friendly, 
127. 

Lomami  River,  the,  250. 

London,  city  of,  presents  Livingstone 
with  a  gold  box,  with  freedom  deed 
enclosed,  165. 

London  Missionary  Society,  Livingstone 
resigns  from,  in  1857,  165-66. 

Lualaba  River,  Livingstone  tries  to  se- 
cure a  canoe  fleet  in  order  to  explore 
and  chart  the,  245. 

Luamo  River,  Livingstone  in  sore  straits 
while  trying  to  cross  the,  239. 

Luapula,  the,  source  stream  of  the  Con- 
go, 228;  the  Central,  or  Webb's  Lake 
River,  228-29. 

Lufite  River,  the,  249. 


E  X  297 
M 

Mabalwe,  native  schoolmaster,  with 
Livingstone  in  attack  on  lions,  41-43. 

Mabotsa,  settlement  at,  37  ff.;  route  to, 
from  Kuruman,  described,  45—46. 

Mackenzie,  Bishop,  with  a  mission 
party  arrives  at  Kongone,  191;  dis- 
cusses the  dark  side  of  the  African 
picture,  192  ff.;  debates  whether  to 
take  sides  with  the  Manganja  against 
the  Ajawa,  195;  parts  with  the  ex- 
plorer and  instals  himself  at  Mago- 
mero,  196;  illness  and  death  of  at 
Malo,  an  island  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Rue,  198-99. 

Maclear,  Sir  Thomas,  excerpt  from  a 
letter  from  Livingstone  to,  announc- 
ing commencement  on  his  book,  164. 

Magomero,  Bishop  Mackenzie  installed 
at,  196. 

Maj  wara,  the  lad  who  loved  Livingstone, 
discovers  him  dead,  272-73. 

Makolololand,  journey  to  Linyanti,  in, 
83. 

Malo,  island  of.  Bishop  Mackenzie  dies 

on,  198-99. 
Mamochisane,    Sebituane's  daughter, 

purposes  carrying  out  her  father's 

designs,  74;  resigns  in  favor  of  her 

brother,  Sekeletu,  96. 
Manganja,  the,  fersus  the  Ajawa,  195. 
Manyuema,  Livingstone  advances  into 

the  country  of  the,  245. 
Mariano,  the  unspeakable  slave-trader, 

174;  details  of  a  hamlet  raided  by, 

174-76. 

Marimba,  description  of  a,  122. 

Ma  Robert,  the,  fitted  and  launched  for 
the  charting  and  measuring  of  the 
four  channels  by  which  the  Zambesi 
falls  into  the  sea,  176;  starts  for 
Tette,  177;  is  renamed  Asthmatic, 
178. 

Mashotlane,  warrior,  holds  in  captivity 
a  Natal  Englishman,  Mr.  Baldwin, 
184. 

Mashuana,  Livingstone's  headman,  131. 
Matabele,  the,  offer  gifts  to  the  explorer, 
137. 

Medicine  practice  of,  Livingstone  has 
regard  for  natives'  skill  in,  106. 

Meeting  of  Stanley  and  Livingstone,  at 
Ujiji  on  Oct.  18,  1871,  reported  by 
Stanley,  251  ff. 

Missionaries,  Livingstone's  fellow,  ac- 
cuse him  of  being  unorthodox  to  the 
point  of  danger,  SO;  England's  "mon- 
strous mistaKe"  as  to,  a  blot  on  Brit- 
ain's escutcheon,  211. 

Missionary  Travels,  excerpt  from,  1  IS- 
IS. 

Mobasilange,  Livingstone's  description 
of,  243-44. 

Moero,  Lake,  Livingstone  first  sees  on 
Nov.  8,  1868,  227;  his  Journal  entry 
concerning,  227,  249.   


298  I  N 

MofiFat.,  Dr.  Robert,  visits  Livingstone 
in  London,  1 1 ;  his  station,  picture  of 
daily  life  at,  32-34;  his  daughter, 
Mary,  marries  Livingstone,  in  1844, 
45;  letter  to,  from  Sechele,  81-82. 

Molilamo,  the  exhausted  explorer  on 
the  banks  of  the,  272. 

Moore,  Joseph,  relates  incident  of  Liv- 
ingstone's loss  of  memory,  14.  15. 

Mosilikatse,  Chief,  threatens  to  kUl 
any  white  man,  40. 

Mosi-oa-Tounya,"  Smoke  that  Soimds," 
141-42. 

Mpangwe.  Chief,  is  assassinated  by  two 
native  Portuguese,  172. 

Mpepe,  relative  to  the  royal  house,  as- 
pires to  succession,  meets  Livingtone, 
96  fF.;  in  conference  with  Livingstone 
and  Sekeletu,  99;  stabs  at  Sekeletu, 
who  is  saved  by  Livingstone's  inter- 
jxjsed  arm.  99;  is  executed,  100-101. 

Murray,  John,  and  Sir  Richard  Murchi- 
son,  urge  Livingstone  to  write  his  ex- 
periences, 164. 

Murray,  Mungo,  joins  Livingtone  in  ex- 
pedition to  cross  Kalahari  desert,  5o. 

Murchison,  Sir  Roderick,  urges  Living- 
stone to  write  his  experiences,  164;  ad- 
dresses guests  at  farewell  public 
dinner  in  honor  of  the  explorer,  I60; 
Livingstone,  arrived  from  Bombay, 
calls  on,  208;  takes  the  explorer,  just 
as  he  was,  to  Lady  Palmerston's  re- 
ception. 208-09. 

Musa,  the  Johanna  malcontent,  be- 
comes central  in  affairs,  219;  revolts 
and  leads  malcontents  to  coast,  220; 
hatches  up  a  plausible  story  of  death 
of  Livingstone,  220;  his  tale  proved 
without  foundation,  220. 

N 

Narratitt  of  an  Expedition  to  the  Zam- 
besi and  its  TribulOTies;  and  of  the 
Discevery  of  the  Lakes  Shirwa  and 
Nyassa,  168. 

Native,  the  unspoiled,  almost  free  from 
consumption,  etc.,  but  falls  victim 
after  contact  with  whites,  87. 

Natural  History,  Livingstone's  contribu- 
tions to,  many  and  genuine,  162. 

New  York  Herald,  the,  and  the  Living- 
stone Search  Expedition,  238. 

Neami,  Lake,  beheld  for  first  time  by 
Europeans,  58-59. 

Niger  expedition,  survey  of  the  river 
by  Mr.  Macgregor  Laird.  Mr.  Lauder 
and  Lt.  William  Allen.  13. 

Nohokotas.  the  spring  waters  of,  58. 

Nokuane,  emissary  or  Sekeletu.  carries 
out  the  execution  of  Mpepe,  lOO-lOl. 

Nonconformist,  imidentified  writer  in 
the,  draws  a  pen-picture  of  Living- 
stone, 160. 

Nyassa,  Lake,  discovery  of,  180;  third 
expedition  reaches,  219,  240. 


E  X 


O 

Ostrich,  the  roar  of,  as  loud  as  that  of 
the  lion.  88-89. 

Oswell.  Wm.  C,  joins  Livingstone  in 
expedition  to  cross  Kalahari  desert, 
55 ;  evinces  solicitude  for  Livingstone 
and  family  60-61;  with  Livingstone 
at  discovery  of  the  2;ambesi,  74,  75. 

Oxford  and  Cambridge  Mission  to  the 
tribes  on  the  Shire  and  I-ake  Nyassa, 
reaches  Kongone,  191. 

Oxford  University  gives  degree  to  Liv- 
ingstone, 165. 

P 

Palmerston,  Lord,  appoints  Livingstone 
Consul  for  the  East  Coast  of  Africa, 
165. 

Park,  Mungo,  Livingstone  recalls  the 

work  of,  162. 
Parting  of  Livingstone  and  Stanley,  the, 

263-65. 

Parra  Africana.  the,  description  of,  117. 

Pearl,  S.  S..  Livingstone's  party,  on  new 
pilgrimage,  leaves  Liverpool  on 
March  10,  1858,  166;  proceeds  twenty 
miles  up  the  Kongone  branch  of  the 
Zambesi,  177. 

Penquin,  cruiser,  Livingstone  and  party 
embark  on,  at  Zanzibar,  for  Rovuma 
Bay,  113. 

Pindar,  cited,  119. 

Pionter,  the,  is  sent  out  by  the  Govern- 
ment to  replace  the  Asthmatic  (orig- 
inally the  Ma  Robert),  179;  arrives  at 
Kongone  from  England,  191;  not  al- 
together satisfactory  for  river  work, 
192;  with  the  Lady  Nyassa  in  tow, 
starts  for  Nyassa,  202. 

Plans,  Livingstone's,  set  forth  in  no  im- 
certain  way,  210. 

Polarity,  sense  of  among  natives,  197 
(footnote). 

Polygamy,  Livingstone's  hardest  task  to 
convince  natives  of  what  he  deemed 
the  error  of.  105. 

Portuguese  settlements  in  miserable 
state  of  decay,  154;  slave-trading  de- 
nounced, 168;  politicians,  insincerity 
of.  bluntly  attacked,  168;  Living- 
stone's specific  charges  against,  169  ff. 

Pringle.  Mr..  Livingstone's  companion 
on  the  road  between  Kurimian  and 
Mabotsa,  40. 

Pungo  Adongo.  Livingstone  laid  up  at, 
128. 

Q 

Quilimane.  the  explorer's  party  reaches 
the  httle  port  of,  155. 

R 

Rain-making,  47,  48. 
Recorder  of  Natal,  the,  in  praise  of  the 
Zulus,  104. 


I  N 


Reis,  Rt.  Rev.  Joachim  Moreira,  sends 
orders  to  district  chiefs  to  give  the 
explorer  every  assistance  possible, 
128. 

Rhodes,  Cecil,  is  forestalled  by  Living- 
stone in  establishing  a  white-ruled 
settlement,  250. 

Richardson,  James,  Livingstone  recalls 
the  work  of,  162. 

Rider,  an  artist,  dies  of  jungle  fever, 
64. 

Roscher,  Dr.,  a  German  explorer,  is 
murdered  by  natives,  181. 

Route  to  interior  from  Atlantic  Coast, 
Livingstone  decides  to  seek,  109. 

Rovuma  River,  the,  Livingstone  goes 
156  miles  up  the,  202. 

Royal  Geographical  Society  awards 
Livingstone  $100  in  token  of  apprecia- 
tion of  the  discovery  of  Lake  Ngami, 
78;  Livingstone's  report  to,  127; 
presents  Livingstone  with  the  Pa- 
trons' Gold  Medal,  162;  begs  Living- 
stone's attendance  at  a  farewell  pub- 
lic dinner  on  Feb.  13,  1857,  165; 
resolves  to  send  an  expedition  to 
Africa,  211 ;  Livingstone  offers  himself 
as  leader,  211;  finances  and  sends 
out  an  expedition  to  ascertain  facts 
regarding  report  of  Livingstone's 
death,  220. 

Royal  Society,  the,  begs  Livingstone's 
attendance  at  a  farewell  pubhc  dinner 
on  Feb.  13,  1857,  165. 

Rusizi,  the  river,  260. 

Russell-Palmerston  antagonisms,  Liv- 
ingstone an  important  piece  on  the 
chess  board  of,  209. 

Russian  war,  news  of  the,  reaches  the 
explorer  128-29. 

S 

Savages,  their  conduct  in  church  com- 
pared with  that  of  English  in  Pepys's 
day,  87. 

Scientist,  Livingstone's  achievements  as 
a,  161-62. 

Scots  raise  $6,000  for  a  Livingstone 
Testimonial  Fund,  162-63. 

Scriptural  history.  See  Ancient  geog- 
raphy. 

Sebituane,  Chief,  saviour  of  Sechele,  36; 
burns  to  hear  Livingstone's  message, 
54;  demonstrates  his  earnestness,  66; 
marches  more  than  100  miles  to  meet 
third  expedition,  68;  account  of  meet- 
ing with  Livingstone,  69  ff .;  his  illness 
and  death,  73. 

Sechele,  Chief  of  the  Bechuanas,  Living- 
stone visits,  34;  his  sick  daughter 
cured,  34;  his  difficulty  the  question 
of  polygamy,  35;  Livingstone's  first 
convert,  47;  promises  to  furnish 
trustworthy  gmde  to  see  Livingstone 
across  Kalahari  desert.  55;  letter 
frran,  to  Dr.  Moffat,  81-82;  decides 


E  X  299 

to  lay  his  case  before  Queen  Victoria, 
84;  starts  for  England,  85;  at  Cape- 
town renounces  the  project,  85. 

Second  Expedition,  the,  keynote  of, 
176;  exploration  work  of,  176  ff.; 
reaches  Tette,  Sept.  8,  1858,  178;  re- 
called by  Lord  John  Russell,  203; 
Livingstone  on  the  recall  of,  204-05. 

Sekeletu  rules  in  his  father's  (Sebitu- 
ane's)  place,  95;  is  strangely  altered, 
188. 

Sekomi,  unfriendly  chief,  66. 

Sekwebu  begs  to  be  allowed  to  go  to 
England  with  Livingstone,  158;  on 
reaching  Mauritius,  commits  suicide, 
158;  death  of  described  by  Living- 
stone in  Missionary  Travels,  158. 

Sepoys,  the,  are  slow  on  the  march  and 
cruel  to  beasts  of  burden,  217,  218; 
employment  of,  an  error,  218. 

Servitors,  Livingstone's  "faithful  five," 
278. 

Shire  River,  173;  Lake,  173. 
Shirwa,  Lake,  discovery  of,  Apl.  18, 
1859,  179. 

Shobo,  a  Bushman  guide,  deserts  cara- 
van and  goes  alone  to  the  water  holes, 
67-68. 

Shongwe,  "The  Seething  Cauldron," 
141. 

Sicard,  Major  Tito  Augusto  d'Araujo, 

Commandant   at  Tette,  sends  the 

explorer  food,  153. 
Sienna,  Livingstone's  base  on  Kongone 

branch  of  Zeimbesi,  incipient  mutiny, 

at,  177. 

Skead,  Mr.  Francis,  of  the  Royal  Navy, 
skilled  surveyor,  joins  Livingstone's 
new  pilgrimage  at  Capetown,  166. 

Slave  trade  "the  greatest  obstacle  to 
civilization  and  commercial  prog- 
ress," 173-74;  Livingstone's  work  the 
death  blow  to,  176. 

Smelting,  natives  understand  the  craft 
of,  105. 

Social  life  of  the  native  people,  101  ff. 

Sorrow  and  apparent  defeat,  191  ff. 

Stanley,  Henry  Morton,  biographical 
data,  234;  leads  Search  Expedition  to 
find  Livingstone,  237-38;  his  outfit, 
243;  meets  Livingstone  at  Ujiji.  250 
ff.;  debates  with  Livingstone  over 
plans,  258;  reports  latter's  decision, 
2o9;  at  Ujiji,  262;  bearing  Living- 
stone's sealed  Journals,  bids  the  ex- 

glorer  Farewell,  263,  264;  reaches 
angamayo,  2b6;  runs  into  members 
of  the  Livingstone  Search  and  Relief 
Expedition,  2b6. 
Steele,  Sir  Thomas  Livingstone's  com- 
panion on  the  road  between  Kuruman 
and  Mabotsa,  40. 
Stewart,  Rev.  James,  reads  burial  ser- 
vice at  funeral  of  Mrs.  Livingstone, 
200. 

Stubbs,  Capt.,  Livingstone  recalls  the 
work  of,  162. 


300  IN] 
T 

Tamunak'la,  the,  62,  64. 

Tanganyika,  Lake,  227,  249;  Living- 
stone and  Stanley  together  explore 
the,  259;  Stanley's  record  of,  260,  261; 
Livingstone's  account,  262. 

Tette,  the  explorer  approaches  the 
settlement  of,  153. 

Thornton,  Mr.  Richard,  geologist,  join's 
Livingstone's  party  on  its  new  pil- 
grimage, 166. 

Times  of  India,  the,  on  report  of  Living- 
stone's safety,  221  ff. 

Tsetse  fly,  Livingstone  makes  an  au- 
topsy of  animal  killed  by  bite  of,  86; 
Livingstone  greatly  interested  to  ob- 
serve effect  of  the,  on  camels  and 
mules,  214-15. 

U 

Ujiji,  Livingstone,  reduced  to  a  skele- 
ton, reaches,  248;  Livingstone  and 
Stanley  at,  262;  Stanley  leaves  Liv- 
ingstone at,  263. 

Unyanyembe,  Livingstone  and  Stanley 
at,  262. 

V 

Veniani,  Father,,  testifies  to  honesty 
and  fairness  among  aborigines,  103. 

Victoria  Falls,  Livingstone  discovers 
the,  142;  summary  of  description  of, 
144  ff.;  Baines,  in  his  Exploralion  of 
Southeast  Africa,  cited,  145;  excerpt 
from  Livingstone's  Journal,  145  ft.; 
account  of,  written  by  Charles  Liv- 
ingstone, 147-48. 

Victoria,  Queen,  receives  and  talks  with 
Livingstone,  162. 


E  X 


Voyage  of  the  Beagle,  excerpt  from,  37, 


W 

Wainwright,  Jacob,  makes  inventory  of 
Livingstone's  effects,  274;  reads  ser- 
vice for  Burial  of  the  Dead,  275; 
carves  an  inscription  on  the  tree  at 
foot  of  which  Livingstone  is  buried, 
276;  accompanies  the  disinterred 
body  to  England,  277. 

Webb's  Lualaba,  the,  249. 

Western  River,  or  Yoimg's  Lake  River, 
229. 

Westminster  Abbey,  body  of  David 
Livingstone  is  buried  in,  10,  277. 

Y 

Young,  Mr.  D.  E.,  leads  T?oyal  "Geo- 
graphical Society's  expedition  to  in- 
vestigate regarding  report  of  Living- 
stone's death,  220. 

Young's  Lake  River.  See  Western  River. 

Z 

Zambesi,  the,  through  the  desert  to, 

57  ff.;  discovery  of  (June,  1851), 

description  of  the,  74,  75;  summary 

of  description  of,  144  ff. 
Zanzibar,  Livingstone  has  a  two-month 

wait  at,  for  the  cruiser  Penguin,  213. 
Zouga  River,  and  native  village  on  the, 

58,  62-64. 
Zulus,  are  famed  for  their  honesty,  104. 
Zulu  War,  Livingstone's  opposition  to, 

draws  upon  him  something  more  than 

doubt,  80. 
Zumbo,  place  of  the  Bazunga,  149. 


4 


